Unexpected
by 0lizzybennet0
Summary: Kurt was much more interested in the guy's sexuality and the bruises on his back than actually learning the violin from him. AU after Furt episode.
1. Chapter 1

**Set some time after Furt and before Never Been Kissed.**

Kurt tapped his finger tentatively against the string and looked away with a grimace as it twanged with a flat whine. Sinking back in the couch he crossed his legs and chewed his lip irritably. It had all started with the move to their new house with Carole and Finn. Hidden and covered in dust he had found the violin once owned by his mother, the violin he never knew even existed. It was a stupid idea, Kurt flicked a glare at the violin propped in the corner of the couch, a _really_ stupid romantic unrealistic idea that he could learn too. Just because it had been his mother's didn't mean he'd magically develop virtuosic skills and connect with her. She was dead and the violin was disgustingly out of tune and it was just a _stupid_ idea. The slap of Kurt's hands on his jeans was loud in the silence of the living room as he pushed himself up to his feet and paced between the door and chairs. Now the teacher, tutor, whatever was going arrive and be all professional and serious and mistake loneliness and confusion for actual interest. Apparently he was around his age, according to the friend of the sister of Carole's friend's husband that knew him. The guy had apparently been playing since he was 6 years old or something ridiculous like that. Kurt glared at the violin. He immediately felt guilty and looked away from it. He jumped as the doorbell rang and nervously smoothed down his top. Just plain grey with dark jeans. Neutral. Of course his voice usually made people step back like he'd walked in naked with just a feather boa but there was nothing he could do about that.

Pulling the door open he froze instantly.

'Sorry,' the guy apologised immediately and quickly brushed a mess of dark brown curls off his forehead before stretching out his hand, 'I think I'm a bit late. Got a bit lost. You're Kurt, yeah?'

'That's me,' Kurt's smile remained frozen in place. Hazel eyes. Curly hair. _Hot._

The guy smiled again and squeezed their hands firmly together before letting go. 'My name's Blaine.'

Still slightly dazed, Kurt stepped aside and gestured him in. Ducking his head, Blaine smiled his thanks and angled his violin case first through the door. He was slightly shorter than Kurt, Kurt took the opportunity standing on the side to run his eyes down Blaine's neck, shoulders and back. His mouth tightened as he tried to smile. Blaine was definitely cute. Things were looking up.

'Your parents out?' Blaine ran his eyes over the living room.

'Yeah, my dad and step-mum are working and Finn, my step-brother,' he added, 'is over at a friend's. I thought I should probably spare them the sound of my playing,' he smiled at Blaine and received a smile in return.

'So,' Blaine bumped his case awkwardly against his leg and stood in the centre of the room, 'I guess we should start with how much you know?'

'Nothing,' Kurt said promptly and crossed his arms as he looked at the violin.

Blaine looked between him and the violin and chewed slowly at his lower lip. Kurt tried not to stare. He had nice lips. 'I've gotta ask, is this like your parents forcing you to learn or something?'

Kurt felt his lip curl and his shoulders slump slightly. 'No, this is my choice.'

'Okay,' Blaine said slowly and kept swinging his case slowly around his leg, he shrugged quickly and twitched a lopsided smile, 'you don't look totally thrilled.'

Kurt threw up his hands and let them drop with a slap. 'It sounds revolting. I tried and it dug into my neck and I stabbed myself with the stick, _bow_ thing and then something unravelled and hit me in the face and it hurt my fingers and-' he just threw up his hands again. 'Why does it sound so awful?'

Blaine just grinned and dipped his head down, clearly trying to hold back laughter. 'Okay,' he lifted amused hazel eyes to Kurt's and bit his lip against a small smile. 'First things first. Can I have a look at your violin?'

Kurt pulled a face and gestured shortly at it. 'Be my guest.' He couldn't help but smile ruefully back as Blaine flicked a little laughing glance at him and shook his head, curls flopping forward again. 'Can I get you a drink?'

'I'm good, thanks.' Blaine lifted the violin and held it confidently in his hands, running his eyes over it before tilting it up and peering through the holes in the side.

Kurt moved slowly forward and watched curiously. 'What are you doing?' He even smelt nice. The thought of spending a hour a week with this guy made learning the violin seem much more enjoyable.

'Trying to see the make.' Blaine's thick dark eyebrows rose steadily as he looked over the violin before looking back at Kurt with a mix of amusement, disbelief and...fondness? 'Kurt, when was this last played?'

'Years ago, it was my mother's.'

It was a real lip-trembling smirk that Blaine bit back on this time. 'Kurt,' his voice was gentle and rippling with badly concealed amusement, 'have the strings been changed?'

Kurt raised his shoulders doubtfully. 'No?'

Blaine just nodded and turned his face away. 'Right. Okay. Um, do you know if the bow has been rehaired?'

'I would say no.'

'How did,' Blaine drew a slow breath and turned to face him, 'how did you play it? Just when you played around with it?'

'I sort of,' Kurt mimed an awkward lifting gesture, 'picked it up and I know they go under your chin and you sort of pull the bow across and-' he broke off as Blaine lost control and burst into spluttering laughter. 'What? What is it?' He demanded.

Blaine composed himself with effort and drew closer by Kurt's side and held the violin out. Their arms brushed lightly and Kurt squeezed his hands together. 'Okay, well, to start with the strings are starting to unravel,' he touched his finger to the mess of silver looking strands unravelling from the strings, Kurt looked away as warm brown eyes looked sideways into his, 'and um,' laughter shook his voice for a second, 'there's no chin rest or shoulder rest and the bridge is warped and the pegs have worn and slipped.'

'So,' Kurt looked down at the violin and tilted his head, 'it's broken?'

'Not broken,' Blaine stroked his hand down the smooth wood as though Kurt had just gravely insulted it, 'it just needs a bit of work and it'll be fine. It hasn't been played in a while, that's all. Here,' he handed it to Kurt and left him clutching it awkwardly like it was a baby, 'I'll show you mine.' The dark fabric of Blaine's coat pulled tight across his shoulders as he bent and unzipped his case and Kurt looked down with interest. Well practiced hands flew over the straps and swung the violin up with ease. 'See,' Blaine bent his head closer to Kurt's again and held the violins side by side, 'see how this is straight,' he touched his finger to the weird wooden thing under the strings, 'and this,' he plucked lightly at a string, 'is how it should sound. Of course yours will sound a bit different, but this is what a violin sounds like.'

'Oh,' Kurt blinked and tore his eyes away from the gentle stroke of Blaine's finger up the string, 'right. So I can't play mine until it's fixed?'

Blaine shrugged and dropped his violin to his side. 'Find a store and take it in and they'll do it right there, the bow might take longer though. You might even be better getting a new one, it depends.'

The couch squeaked as Kurt dropped down heavily. 'So I basically wasted your time today?'

Blaine flashed him a crooked smile and sank down beside him. 'I live nearby anyway. You couldn't have known. So do you go to school around here?'

'McKinley, you?' He couldn't help sneaking a sideways glance at where Blaine sat next to him. Something nervous and sad curled in his stomach. Guys never sat that close to him. Blaine wouldn't want to once he realised he was gay and that thought made Kurt's heart sink more than being slammed into a locker, it was always the little things that hurt the most.

'Carmel.' The corner of Blaine's mouth twitched up in a brief bitter smile before his expression smoothed back.

'Ah, Vocal Adrenaline?'

'Yep,' Blaine danced his fingers absently across the strings, 'that's us. Not me, of course,' he flashed Kurt a small smile.

'Singing not your thing?'

Blaine shrugged. 'I like singing. I would say more I don't have quite the _status_ to be part of Vocal Adrenaline.'

Tracing patterns over the wood of his violin Kurt smiled ruefully. 'Come to McKinley, joining glee club means giving up your status.'

'Sounds nice.'

The bruises fresh from yesterday's locker slam ached down Kurt's back. 'Not really, no.' He flicked his nail against the wood with a sharp crack. 'So, I guess I should probably stop wasting your time and fix this,' he tapped it again, 'before next time. If you want to, that is,' he added quickly.

'I was thinking, totally get it if you don't want,' Blaine set his violin carefully aside and shrugged out of his coat, Kurt's breath caught as Blaine's sweater hitched up several inches with the tug of the coat to reveal lightly tanned bare skin. Then he froze, there was also a pattern of bruises along his side, just above his hip. Old and new bruises in the obvious colours Kurt knew only too well. Knew too well because he had mirroring bruises above his own hip, the trademark of a sideways shove into a locker when your arms twisted and you hit hip first and slid. '-so if it's alright,' Blaine kept talking, oblivious to Kurt's staring, 'I could come with you? I know the man that owns the store and I can help. Of course-'

'The violin store?' Kurt cut him off and tore his eyes away as Blaine sat back and his sweater slid down over the bruises.

'Violins and cellos, yeah.'

'Tomorrow, after school?'

'If you're free?' Blaine blinked long dark eyelashes and rubbed his hand along his jaw.

'That would be great,' Kurt said firmly.

Blaine's smile started shy then widened quickly. 'Awesome. I can pick you up if you like?'

Kurt already had his phone out. 'Mind if I get your number? It's written somewhere but if you could just put it in my phone now?'

'Sure,' warm fingers brushed Kurt's as Blaine swapped their phones over.

'So,' Kurt stared at again at the pull of Blaine top across his back as he put away his violin, 'how much do I owe you for today?'

Blaine just chuckled and turned around, shaking his head and smiling. 'It's fine. It wasn't a lesson.'

'Blaine-'

He shook his head again and stood up, violin case in hand and coat draped elegantly over his shoulder. 'We'll start next week. _Seriously_,' he spoke over Kurt's protests. 'It was nice meeting you,' he held out his hand again and Kurt tried not to smile too idiotically as firm calloused fingers wrapped around his hand. Blaine flashed him another crooked smile and blinked those impossibly long eyelashes. 'Guess I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Yeah, yeah, you will,' Kurt squeezed his hand before he stepped back and opening the door for him.

'See ya, Kurt,' Blaine gave him a short wave and smile.

'Bye, Blaine.' Kurt waited until his car pulled away before slumping back against the closed door. Did straight guys sling their coats over their shoulder like that? Was he straight? Kurt looked at his violin with stronger interest, he did at least know that Blaine looked gorgeous.


	2. Chapter 2

**I've had quite a few comments on the fact that I use ' instead of ". I do want to point out though that amongst others my copies of Jane Austen's works, Dickens, Terry Pratchett, Tolkien, Garth Nix, Dan Brown...all use ' so I promise it's not just something I made up in a bizarre attempt to be different. Also can I mention all my Harry Potter books use ' too? :) **

Kurt bumped his violin case nervously against his leg and tightened his grip on his satchel strap. He glanced over his shoulder again, checking. It would be just his luck if Karofsky found him with a violin, not to mention being picked up by Blaine. Hopefully no one would find out because, if his suspicions were correct, Blaine didn't need any more bullying and that's exactly what he would get if they were seen together. Kurt worried at his lower lip with a mix of nerves and anticipation at the thought of seeing Blaine again. Nerves faded into simple happiness as he recognised the driver pulling into the car park, curly hair, thick eyebrows, friendly smile. The friendly smile was the nicest.

'I promise I'm not about to kidnap you,' Blaine announced as Kurt opened the car door.

Kurt bent his head down and grinned across at Blaine. 'Good to know. Should I put this in the backseat or the boot?' He held up his violin case.

'Whatever.' Blaine lowered the music as Kurt slid down into the passenger seat. 'Music on or off?'

'On,' Kurt said immediately. 'Unless you're into Justin Bieber or something equally appalling.' Grinning and shaking his head, Blaine flicked the volume up a notch and glanced over his shoulder as he started to reverse the car out. Kurt took the opportunity to surreptitiously run his eyes over Blaine. Dark jeans and a fitted white t-shirt. The t-shirt twisted across Blaine's chest with a hint of firm muscle beneath and Kurt stopped assessing for a moment and just stared interestedly. Blaine turned back around in his seat and Kurt quickly looked out the window. He propped his elbow on the door and pressed his knuckles to his mouth, trying not to smirk.

'So what kind of music are you into?' Blaine asked, craning his neck as they waited to pull out of the car park. Kurt risked another quick glance over slightly olive skin and a firm jawline.

'Um,' Kurt stalled for a brief moment as he tried to focus, 'all sorts, I guess. Not rap though or heavy metal. You?' Say show-tunes, he silently willed. Or GaGa. That would be nice and obvious.

Blaine rotated his grip on the steering wheel and chewed his lower lip in thought. 'I'm quite into Interpol at the moment.'

Out of view of Blaine, Kurt pulled a face out the window. How wonderfully ambiguous. 'Do you listen to classical music?'

'Some,' Blaine admitted, 'it helps with playing sometimes.'

'So I guess your iPod doesn't get picked for playing in car trips?' Kurt teased with a smile.

The smile Blaine directed out the windscreen was strangely forced. 'No, I guess it doesn't.' It might have been his imagination, but Blaine's hand seemed to linger on his side where Kurt had seen the bruises on the way down to tug absently at his seatbelt. 'So,' he changed the conversation abruptly, 'what's it like at McKinley? Everyone at Carmel thinks you breathe fire and have two heads.'

'No, that's just Rachel,' Kurt replied immediately. Blaine grinned and nodded with an acknowledgement he'd heard of her. 'It's a bit of a pathetic school,' he said suddenly, 'everyone's bullying everyone.'

Blaine ran a single finger along the top of the steering wheel before sighing and pushing his shoulders back into the seat. 'Same at Carmel.'

'Do you,' Kurt paused to phrase it carefully, 'get anything for playing the violin?'

'No,' Blaine said immediately and Kurt recognised the same forced smile he gave his dad every time he asked about school. Liar.

The rest of the car trip passed in easy conversation around various bands with careful avoidance on Blaine's part of anything relating to school or even anything meaningful about himself. By the time they arrived at the store Kurt was almost definitely convinced Blaine was being bullied, whether for the violin or for being gay Kurt didn't know. There was a red patch tinged with light blue just under his elbow that looked like it was developing into a fresh bruise. Kurt's gaydar gave another uncertain little flicker as Blaine immediately smiled at a sly mention of Patti LuPone but he was prepared to admit his gaydar had been swayed by wishing rather than actual truth in the past and really, it would be _nice_ if Blaine and his jawline were gay.

GGGGGGGGG

'The guy looks like Bilbo and Mr Ollivander had a kid,' Blaine murmured in his ear, drawing back with a tiny smile and a significant nod at the short man behind the counter. 'He's great though.'

'Blaine!' The man looked up in obvious happiness and held up a hand in greeting.

'Mr Williams,' Blaine nodded his head before grinning and stepping forward to grip his hand warmly.

'And this is?' Mr Williams craned his head over Blaine's shoulder at Kurt before releasing Blaine's hand. With greying hair and bright blue eyes he stood even shorter than Blaine, which was saying something given Blaine was a bit on the short side. It was like watching Frodo meeting Bilbo.

'This is Kurt,' Blaine placed a friendly hand on Kurt's shoulder. 'He's bringing his mum's old violin in to be fixed up.'

Mr Williams eyes lit up and he carefully took the case from Kurt's hands and took it to the counter without further word. Kurt flicked an uncertain glance at Blaine and just received a warm smile in return. Blaine's eyes crinkled in the corner when he smiled and Kurt felt warmer. 'Your mother has excellent taste,' Mr Williams turned the violin over in his hands.

'Had,' Kurt corrected absently, running his eyes over the violins lining the walls.

'I'm sorry,' Blaine murmured close by his ear and placed a sympathetic hand between his shoulder-blades.

Kurt tensed at the spread of Blaine's hand on his back and the warmth seeping through the thin layer of cotton to his skin. Blaine seemed to take that as sadness and rubbed his thumb softly. Well, that was just all kinds of wonderful. Kurt resisted the urge to arch his back and purr. Here in the cluttered shop with the smell of polish heavy on the air Kurt had his first proper, friendly, gentle touch from another guy. _No one_ outside glee club did that. Even within glee club it was rare and here was Blaine, an acquaintance of one day, with his hand still soft on Kurt's back like this was perfectly normal.

'We'll start with getting you a chin rest and shoulder rest,' Mr Williams cut through Kurt's wandering thoughts. 'Come over,' he waved an impatient hand and Blaine stifled a smirk, giving him a little push forward. Mr Williams stood and ran his eyes openly over Kurt while Kurt stood awkwardly in the centre of the racks, rubbing his fingertips together. 'Nice neck and jaw,' he said approvingly, 'you'll make a fine looking violinist.'

Kurt cast an uncertain glance over his shoulder at Blaine as Mr Williams turned away. Blaine shrugged and grinned again. 'It's a compliment. He told me I'd look like a hobbit fiddle player.'

'Certainly did,' Mr Williams said firmly and turned around with a number of shoulder rests balanced up his arms and chin rests in his hands. 'Now,' he presented them to Kurt, 'tell me which take your fancy. Just take a random guess and pick two.'

The bell above the shop door tinkled and Mr Williams cast a harried glance over his shoulder. 'Blaine,' he piled them into Blaine's hurriedly outstretched arms, 'you can-' he waved a dismissive hand, 'oh, you know what to do. Find me when you've picked them.' Without a backwards glance he hurried back to the front of the store.

Kurt finally gave a half amused half uncertain laugh and stood frozen with his violin in hand. Curls bounced across Blaine's forehead as he smiled ruefully and lifted his eyes to Kurt's with a helpless shrug and laugh. 'Better get started, I suppose.'

Watching Blaine carefully fit the rests onto the violin was strangely mesmerising and in a weird way...attractive. Standing up with Blaine knelt on the floor he admired the slope of Blaine's neck and the way his dark curls fell about his face as he deftly slid the pieces together with practiced hands.

'So,' Blaine's voice was suddenly soft behind his ear when Kurt awkwardly lifted the violin up to his shoulder, 'you kinda look like you're about to use this as a weapon.'

'Well I've never done this before, have it?' Kurt fired back.

'First,' Kurt could hear the smile in Blaine's voice, '_relax_.' Blaine drummed his fingers on Kurt's shoulders in the dip just before the upwards slope into his neck. 'Now put your hand like this,' he reached under the violin to cup his hand over Kurt's on the fingerboard and used his other to gently push his elbow forward.

Kurt couldn't look away from the thread of Blaine's fingers through his and the light press of calluses against his skin. His hand was so gentle and firm at the same time.

'Sorry,' Blaine flicked a quick apologetic glance at him and looked at their joined hands. 'It's just easier if I move your hand, I can just show you if you'd prefer though.'

'No,' Kurt cleared his throat and stifled an instinctive squeak when Blaine's fingertips pushed at his elbow again, 'no, it's fine.'

'If you just lean your head sideways,' Blaine stepped back and mimed tilting his head. Kurt hesitantly tried to copy and immediately choked as the edge of the violin stabbed him in the throat. He tried again carefully while Blaine's lip trembled with badly suppressed laughter. 'Is it comfortable? The right height?'

'I feel like my neck is being snapped in half.'

Blaine laughed and rubbed his hand lightly through his hair, briefly gazing at Kurt, his expression unreadable. Kurt felt strangely warm. 'I guess-' Blaine broke off and his eyes fixed on something past the shelves, 'one second, sorry,' he hurried off between the rows down the back of the store.

Holding his violin awkwardly, Kurt let it drop down to his side and turned around. He looked through the gaps in the wooden shelves of violins to see whatever it was that caught Blaine's eye. Just the three customers that had come in early standing by the register, an eager looking young girl on tiptoes by the counter, her mother and a bored looking teenage son standing behind them. Was Blaine embarrassed to be seen with him? Kurt immediately rejected the idea, but part of it refused to fade. Even as he told himself Blaine would never have agreed to taking him here if he was embarrassed another part of his mind whispered that maybe Blaine had heard something about him today at school. It would be a shame because –Kurt stared down at a button on his shirt- Blaine was so nice.

Only when the bell tinkled as they left did Blaine come strolling back through the racks, smiling as if nothing had happened.

'So, made any choices?' Blaine asked brightly.

'Are you okay?'

'Me?' Blaine faked surprise quite well, 'yeah, I'm fine. Here,' he carried on smoothly, 'let me put a new one on if that doesn't fit.'

Handing over the violin, Kurt could see the faint indents in Blaine's lower lip as if he'd been biting down hard. Blaine carried on talking and Kurt let it go. His curiosity didn't fade however.

Eight adjustments to the shoulder rest and three chin rests later Kurt leaned against the bench with his chin propped in his palms as he watched Mr Williams do something to the strings. Blaine sat up on the bench above Kurt, holding a violin across his lap like a guitar and quietly strumming little tunes.

'Here you go,' finally Mr Williams flipped Kurt's violin deftly across to Blaine. 'Test for me.'

Kurt watched, wide-eyed, as Blaine tucked the violin under his chin and drew the bow across the string. Muscles bunched and flexed down Blaine's bare arm and Kurt traced his eyes up the line of Blaine neck, along his tilted jaw. Drawing the bow back, Blaine's whole body almost seemed to sway into the next note. Under the clinging white cotton Blaine's shoulder lifted and Kurt suddenly wanted to touch his fingers to that little dip, just like Blaine had done on him. Maybe curve his hand over his bicep and feel each flex of muscle, run his hand slowly down his arm, thread his fingers through Blaine's. Then there were his lips, which looked, Kurt swallowed, soft. Was soft even the right word to use to describe a guy's lips? Kurt just kept gazing, it wasn't as if he'd ever kissed a guy so soft was going to have to do. Ridiculously long eyelashes fluttered closed just above Blaine's cheek and Kurt felt a surge of jealousy mixed with awe. So caught up in watching Blaine's eyelashes, fingers, arm, Kurt didn't even hear the music or the sound of approval from Mr Williams. Suddenly hazel eyes were locked on his and Kurt looked away hurriedly. No need to freak Blaine out any more by staring.

'That was amazing,' Kurt couldn't help a small smile. He was going to be seeing this every week. He instantly resolved to be the most appallingly slow learner needing _so much_ teaching.

'You try,' Blaine stepped in closer by his side and nudged the violin onto Kurt's shoulder. He even smelled good, almost like the heady rich scent of polish and wood. There were only the faintest of touches and brushes of fingers as Blaine helped Kurt position the violin. Picking up a new bow, Blaine demonstrated holding. 'Like this,' he held the bow in his hand and glanced across at Kurt.

Biting firmly on his lip in concentration, Kurt awkwardly tried to shift his little finger along the wood and immediately winced as the bow tipped and scratched across the string. 'That's the most disgusting sound in the world,' he declared. His breath caught faintly as Blaine's fingers touched his. That was going to get embarrassing if Blaine was teaching him. Blaine hooked his finger under Kurt's little finger and tugged it down the bow.

'There,' Blaine did the same to his next finger then closed his hand over Kurt's bare wrist, angling it down slightly. He drew back with a friendly smile. 'Like that.'

The warmth of Blaine's hand still lingered on his wrist as Kurt fixed his attention on the bow. Developing a large crush on the second day, well done. Kurt rolled his eyes slightly at himself. Glancing sideways he caught Blaine still looking at him with an encouraging smile. One of those dark curls fell over his eye and he flipped it back with a quick, easy grin. Kurt focused firmly on the violin.

GGGGGGGGG

Kurt tried not to smile too obviously as he walked slowly at Blaine's side. In the short car trip between the shop and the coffee shop on the way home they'd both decided on Wednesdays for lesson, which was tomorrow. Seeing Blaine again tomorrow. Kurt stole a quick glance sideways at him as they walked. There was a deep little furrow between Blaine's dark eyebrows and the corner of his mouth was quirked down. The flick of his eyes down the street sent a small spike of dejection through Kurt. Maybe he shouldn't have worn the green shirt today. Surely Blaine wasn't like that though, he hadn't had any problems in the store being near him or touching him. Kurt followed Blaine's constantly searching eyes but still hoped, hoped he wasn't embarrassed to be seen with him.

When Blaine held open the door and stepped aside to let him through first Kurt told himself he was just being paranoid again. The familiar brightness was back in Blaine's eyes as they stood and queued, laughter coming easily as Blaine told him the story of his first meeting with Mr Williams.

'So,' Kurt cupped his hands around his warm coffee mug, 'what made you start playing the violin?'

Blaine shrugged and settled comfortably back in the seat, Kurt shifted with a tiny thrill as Blaine's leg slid briefly along his. 'My aunt plays the violin and according to family lore,' he flicked Kurt a smile over the rim of his mug, 'I used to try and play her violin when I was a little kid.' Lifting his mug, Kurt tried to hide his smile at the thought of a tiny curly-haired Blaine with his aunt's large violin. The sparkle in Blaine's hazel eyes said he'd read Kurt's thoughts. 'So,' he turned his smile down to the table, 'what about you, have you always liked singing?'

'I held impromptu concerts for my parents from the age of three,' Kurt declared. He broke into a quick smile, 'I think I was excruciatingly irritating,' he admitted with a mock-grimace.

'Nah,' Blaine smiled at him, 'I'm sure you were great. I'd love to hear sometime.'

Kurt felt his face heat up and quickly fidgeted with the sugar sachets.

'I-' Blaine broke off and Kurt looked curiously up at him.

'Ladies,' someone muttered.

The table juddered with a shove of a fist and Kurt automatically flinched. He looked up into a broad back disappearing between the tables. No one he instantly recognised, but that was hardly new. His cheeks burned with a different kind of flush this time. Keeping his eyes lowered Kurt silently reached for the napkins and laid them slowly over the spreading mess of his spilled coffee. 'Sorry,' Kurt murmured. He mopped the puddle methodically and quietly, humiliation keeping him silent. 'Um,' well, it had been nice while it lasted, 'the thing is,' he spoke softly, 'you might not want to give me lessons after all. People will get the wrong ideas,' another sweep of the sodden napkin, 'as you saw,' he finished quietly.

'I don't care.'

Kurt smiled faintly. 'You will, believe me you will. But,' he gathered his bag up and inclined his head, 'that's a really nice thing to say. Thank you.'

'You're being bullied?' It was less of a question and more a statement and Blaine reached across the table to catch the edge of Kurt's sleeve and hold him in place.

'Constantly,' Kurt said simply.

Blaine released his sleeve and gazed up at him until he reluctantly sank back down into the chair. 'Why?' He asked quietly with a hint of...nervousness.

Kurt tilted his head and looked steadily at Blaine in bleak amusement. 'Why do you think?' He gestured pointedly down his outfit.

Blaine rolled his coffee cup through his hands and chewed his lip. 'You're gay?' He lowered his voice even further.

'It's really not that hard to figure out,' Kurt shrugged and toyed with his shirt hem. 'That guy was calling you my boyfriend.' He shrugged again and tried to stop the sinking feeling in his stomach.

'No,' Blaine disagreed quietly. He turned his face away and gazed blankly out the cafe window. 'He was calling you my boyfriend.'

'Oh,' Kurt mouthed the word and looked quickly down at his hands. 'So, you're gay then?'

'Yeah,' Blaine knocked the edge of the cup restlessly against the table. 'Sorry. Does this make it awkward? I swear,' he leaned his fingers against the edge of the table and stared earnestly at Kurt, 'I _swear_ I'm not trying to hit on you or-'

'Blaine,' Kurt cut him off with a small shake of his head, 'I'm gay too,' he finally smiled, 'I get it.'

Blaine relaxed into a real smile, relief obvious in his eyes. 'Thanks.'

'So,' the coffee continued inching past the napkin and Kurt lifted his arm carefully, 'are you being bullied for it?'

'No,' Blaine said quickly. 'Nothing serious, not really.'

Kurt chewed his lip and just nodded. Blaine really was a terrible liar. 'That guy just then didn't seem that friendly.'

Blaine scratched his nail quickly over the table. 'It's not much, it's fine. You know how it is.'

For one quiet moment Kurt stared at his downturned eyes before speaking. 'Actually I get thrown into lockers almost every day and I have bruises down my back and sides. Is that how it is?'

Blaine's eyes lifted desperately to his and that was all the answer Kurt needed. Avoiding the puddle of coffee, Kurt stretched his hand out and carefully cupped the back of Blaine's hand. He squeezed lightly. 'I'm scared,' Blaine finally spoke to their clasped hands, 'that one day they'll go for my hands, you know? I'm sorry I ran in the store but I recognised that guy from Carmel and didn't want him to see you with me.'

'Does anyone know about this?'

Blaine dipped his head briefly before looking up through his eyelashes with a sad smile. 'Yeah. No one really cares.'

Kurt clasped Blaine's hand tighter. 'I know the feeling.'

**Mr Williams is based off the man who owned the violin store where I used to go and he really did look like Bilbo, it was amazing.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I have been away from FF net for a while so I'm sorry for the delay in updates! Also thank you to the lovely people that sent me messages and I'm sorry I haven't replied but they're all in some kind of weird archive now where you can't reply? Anyway, thank you again :)**

Kurt step-sided around the counter with a half twirl and plucked his toast out of the toaster. He waved the toast in a cheery hello, still singing along to his ipod as Burt came up behind him.

'Ah!' Kurt laid the flat of the butter knife across his dad's hand and fixed him with a stern gaze. Sighing, Burt pulled his hand away from the ipod dock and rolled his shoulders in resignation as Beyonce continued playing.

'You're chirpy,' he observed. 'Something good happening today?'

Kurt briskly buttered the toast and absently slid the nutella out of Burt's reach. 'Violin lesson this afternoon.'

'Huh, you're really getting into that, aren't you?' Burt sounded pleased. He sighed as his second attempt to reach for the nutella was blocked. 'Kurt, I'm allowed nutella.' He tried another quick lunge for it. Turning up the music and singing, Kurt snatched it out of reach and tried to duck past him into the pantry. 'C'mere,' Burt caught him in a mock rough squeeze and dragged him backwards.

'Dad!'

'Hand it over, kid,' he held his hand out over Kurt's shoulder for the nutella. With a grudging roll of his eyes, Kurt slapped it down in his palm and crossed his arms. Burt gave his shoulder one last squeeze and immediately recoiled as Kurt hissed in pain. 'Hey,' he demanded in concern, 'what was that?'

Kurt gingerly rubbed his shoulder and flashed him a quick smile. 'I think I have a bruise there, I must have bumped into something.' The edge of a locker and the bruise in question was the size of his palm, but that information was staying with him and him alone. Or maybe Blaine. Maybe. Kurt's smile turned genuine and reached his eyes at the thought of seeing Blaine again. He bit his lower lip and tried not to smile too widely.

GGGGGG

Blaine twitched a half-hearted smile as Kurt flung open the front door. Kurt froze for a split second before quickly toning his expression down. So maybe Blaine wasn't quite as excited to see him as he was. It was with a growing heavy weight in his chest that Kurt stepped aside to let him in, answered some distant small talk questions and quietly opened his violin case. Carole's clock ticked on the mantelpiece and the sound of the zipper on Kurt's case sounded overly loud as he slowly drew it back. Typical. He _always_, Kurt snapped the clip back, over-thought, ripped the velcro open, _everything_. He slumped his shoulders and stared down at the violin.

'I've forgotten what to do,' Kurt said simply. He didn't bother looking round as Blaine sank to his knees beside him. Without speaking, Blaine slid the violin out and pushed the shoulder rest on and handed it over to Kurt. 'Thanks,' he said dully. He'd been looking forward to this so much. He felt stupidly depressed as he silently accepted the bow from Blaine. 'Did I-' he flicked the bow slowly between his fingers before shaking his head and forcing a smile, 'never mind.'

'Did you what?'

'No,' Kurt shook his head again, 'nothing.'

'You're very quiet,' Blaine commented.

'And you're not talking at all,' Kurt replied immediately with a snort. Silence fell, quickly and awkwardly. 'Sorry,' Kurt muttered.

Sat on the carpet beside Kurt, Blaine shifted almost imperceptibly. They both stared unmoving into the violin case. 'Does it ever get easier?' He asked finally.

'Does what get easier?'

Sighing, Blaine stretched out his arm and shook his sleeve back. Red scratches and what looked like gravel rash dotted the side of his arm. 'This sort of thing.'

'Blaine,' Kurt closed his eyes briefly. He hovered his hand over Blaine's bare arm, hesitantly meeting his eyes for permission. His skin was so soft and warm under Kurt's fingers as he rotated his arm, why anyone would want to hurt him was incomprehensible. Kurt immediately felt protective. 'Did you get this looked at?' He read the answer in the way Blaine guiltily lowered his long eyelashes. 'Follow me,' he reluctantly lifted his fingers from his arm and stood up.

'I'm supposed to be teaching you violin,' Blaine remained in an indecisive crouch.

Kurt rolled his eyes and stretched out his hand impatiently. With a hint of his crooked smile, Blaine slipped his hand into Kurt's and pulled himself upright. A little something sparked in Kurt with Blaine's hand held tight in his, even just for that brief moment. A boy was holding his hand. 'Do you mind me asking what happened?'

Blaine pursed his lips and shrugged. 'Just the usual.' Nothing else was forthcoming and Kurt didn't press it.

Seated on the edge of the bath, Kurt twitched his feet and Blaine dabbed the antiseptic wipes across his arm in relative silence, punctuated with the occasional hiss as it stang. Kurt's question of when the bullying began was met with a vague guarded response and Blaine scuffed his feet across the tiles as though to create some distracting noise. Kurt thought of the bruise on his shoulder and the others hidden under his clothing, thought of maybe showing Blaine, maybe that would help, but he wasn't brave enough. He desperately wanted someone to see and understand but he couldn't bear the thought that maybe Blaine wouldn't care.

GGGGGG

'You look kinda pale,' Kurt tilted his head and surveyed Blaine. 'Sure you're feeling okay?' He shook his hand absently, already feeling the ache from just twenty minutes of practice. 'Does your arm really hurt?'

'Nah, I'm fine,' Blaine pushed his hair off his forehead and smiled. 'How about you? Hand sore?'

Pulling a sad face Kurt held his hand up and wiggled his fingers. He couldn't help but smile back as Blaine broke into a genuine grin and dipped his head, letting his curls fall back over his forehead again. 'Come on,' he tapped Kurt lightly on the arm with his bow, 'halfway there.'

With a dramatic grimace Kurt shouldered his violin and followed Blaine's instructions of how to place and move his hand again. He secretly wished he would physically move his hand like he had done in the violin shop but no such luck. Blaine moved just a bit closer and bent his head to look around the other side at Kurt's grip.

'Oh my God,' Kurt breathed and his grip promptly went slack.

'_Woah!_' Quick hands hastily grabbed Kurt's violin as it slid down his shoulder. 'Okay,' Blaine gave a shaky little laugh and very carefully placed the violin back in Kurt's hands, 'couple of thousands of dollars worth of violin there, Kurt.'

'Your neck,' Kurt blurted out. He twisted his hand tightly around the neck of the violin. 'I think – Blaine you're _bleeding_.'

He expected something more than just a mild look of irritation as Blaine clapped a hand to the back of his neck and pulled a face. 'Not again,' he pulled his hand back to inspect it. 'This is the second top this week I've stained,' he flashed a quick smile at Kurt. 'Look, I'm really sorry, but do you mind if I just quickly use your bathroom?' Kurt stared dumbly into the friendly expression on Blaine's face. Something flickered briefly in Blaine's eyes then disappeared. 'It's just a shaving cut, must have caught something on it again,' he added as Kurt kept staring.

'What do you shave with?' Kurt recovered his voice. 'A machete?' Blaine just laughed uneasily and flinched as Kurt impulsively gripped his arm. Clutching his violin and bow awkwardly in his other hand, Kurt stood still with his hand wrapped tightly around Blaine's upper-arm. Long eyelashes fanned out over Blaine's cheeks as he looked down at his feet. Kurt tightened his grip minutely.

'Edge of a trash can,' Blaine lifted his eyes to Kurt and shrugged awkwardly. He closed his eyes. 'Edge of a trash can,' he repeated quietly.

Kurt squeezed his hand even tighter and took an instinctive step forward. He stopped immediately as Blaine froze. For one moment they stood in uncertain silence before Blaine slowly slumped his forehead down onto Kurt's shoulder. His head was a warm, heavy weight on Kurt's shoulder. This was a _boy's _head. Male. Standing two feet away. Blaine sighed faintly and Kurt immediately banished those thoughts. He rubbed his palm softly over Blaine's arm. 'Pushed?' He asked finally.

'Someone tripped me actually,' Blaine lifted his head and shot Kurt an apologetic glance. Stepping back he neatened the shoulder of Kurt's top with an embarrassed flush on his cheeks. 'Sorry.'

'I'll help you,' Kurt gestured to the mess on the side of his neck.

Blaine shook his head quickly. 'It's fine, you don't have to.'

Kurt set his violin down on the couch and touched Blaine's arm lightly again. 'No really, I do. I'm the only other person that really gets it, aren't I?'

'I guess,' Blaine tilted his head sideways and stared down at the fireplace, away from Kurt.

'What do your parents say?' He hadn't meant to sound so accusing and harsh.

Blaine's shoulder slumped further. 'Yeah, about that.' He left it at that and Kurt didn't push. 'Look, I'm really sorry. I was supposed to be teaching you today, not making you play nurse.' A faint flush spread over Kurt's cheeks at that and Blaine swallowed audibly. 'Sorry, wrong, I mean-' he chewed his lip and quickly looked away, 'yeah.'

There were so many questions Kurt wanted to ask Blaine as the he walked silently behind him into the bathroom. Mainly about his parents. Neither Carole or his dad knew about the bullying, but that was the work of Kurt himself, not indifference on their part and Kurt got the definite impression Blaine's parents didn't care all that much. It was a sad thought but likely that Kurt, the guy he'd met three times, was the only person that accepted Blaine as being gay.

Blaine hissed as Kurt gently touched the antiseptic wipe to the scrape on his neck.

'Hurts?' Kurt froze.

'Cold,' Blaine admitted sheepishly.

Shaking his head, Kurt pressed the wipe back down. 'Baby.' He paused and bit his lip, maybe not so appropriate teasing the guy he'd only met three times. 'Sorry.' Blaine just smiled warmly. 'So,' Kurt tried not to let himself enjoy it as he looped a finger under a single curl and lifted it away from Blaine's neck. It wrapped gently around his finger and clung, even his hair was adorable. Kurt cleared his throat and briskly pushed the rest of his hair aside in a businesslike sweep. 'So, any other injuries? You can tell me you know, I'd rather you didn't just randomly collapse on the carpet.'

Blaine chuckled. 'No, this is the lot for today.'

'I,' Kurt hesitated and cursed himself for sounding so uncertain, 'know what it's like.' He set the wipes aside and sat down beside Blaine on the edge of the bath.

'So you said you get bruises too?' Blaine pressed his hands between his knees and flicked his gaze up uncertainly.

Kurt traced his fingers absently down his side, Blaine watched the path of his hand with a sad expression. 'Yep.'

'Do you,' Blaine swallowed and mirrored Kurt, touching his fingers to his own leg at the side of his thigh, '-down your legs too?'

The side of Kurt's hip twinged slightly as he pressed his fingers down too hard on a fresh bruise. 'Here,' he tapped again, 'I always fall and land on my hip.'

'Hurts your palms too, doesn't it? Jolts all up your arm when you fall,' Blaine added softly.

'Can I,' Kurt hesitated, 'see?'

'At first I wanted people to see,' Blaine stalled with his fingers hooked under his hem, 'I thought it would make a difference,' he twisted the fabric before continuing with an almost wondering tone, 'but it just made it worse. I think people liked seeing the bruises, like I was getting what I deserved.'

'That's sick,' Kurt placed his hand on Blaine's shoulder and squeezed firmly.

Bowing his head briefly, Blaine swayed into his hand before sighing and wordlessly hitching up the hem of his top. Kurt's breath caught then released with a shudder. 'Looks good, huh?' Blaine said wryly.

'It's _disgusting_,' Kurt said vehemently. 'This is _sick_.' He touched his fingertip gently to the darkest patch and Blaine just chuckled resignedly into his hands. 'It's not fair,' Kurt murmured, his voice suddenly choked. Quickly withdrawing his hand he swiped his sleeve across his eyes and drew in a deep breath. Blaine patted his knee briefly before pushing up off the ledge.

'Violin?' There was resignation, hopelessness and a whole other heap of emotions in Blaine's face that Just made Kurt want to sink back.

'Yeah, violin,' he echoed. There wasn't much he could do until Blaine was willing to share more and that thought made him ball his fists in a mix of confusion, understanding and frustration.

GGGGG

Kurt actually groaned as the bow skitted up the fingerboard again with a screech. 'Blaine, this just-'

'Kurt, you've been playing the violin for a total of thirty minutes. In your entire life.' Blaine ducked his head down to catch Kurt's downcast eyes, looking up with earnest hazel eyes. 'Yes, it's going to sound bad to start with.'

'I just want it to sound good _now_.'

'Okay, I'm just going to touch your wrist, is that alright?' Warm and firm, Blaine's hand closed around Kurt's wrist and Kurt stood very still. 'You have to _bend_ your wrist,' he pulled Kurt's arm down, 'if you just swing your arm back the bow won't stay straight. Look here,' Blaine tapped the bridge and Kurt almost went cross-eyed trying to eye up his bare wrist instead, 'and try to line it up straight. So,' Blaine slowly pushed his arm up, 'long whole-bow, bending at the wrist.'

Finally Kurt produced a halfway decent sound that met with a smile of approval from Blaine. 'Should they be this sore?' Kurt examined his fingertips before waving them curiously at Blaine.

'You'll get calluses eventually.'

Kurt clutched his fingers to his chest instinctively. 'I'll get what? Blaine, I moisturise regularly to keep my hands soft.'

'Have you always been out?' Blaine asked suddenly. 'Sorry,' he blushed faintly, 'I'm prying.'

'Not at all,' Kurt said immediately. He chanced a small smile at Blaine, hoping desperately it would be returned. 'Not that long really, but I think everyone sort of knew anyway,' he added with a self-deprecating laugh. 'My voice, the way I dress, the things I'm interested in. Why?' His tone turned slightly uncertain. It was like this whole day had been a mix of easy companionship with awkward silences, as though Blaine laughed and smiled until he remembered he shouldn't.

Worrying at his lower lip, Blaine looked anywhere but at Kurt. 'I used to be well-liked,' he confessed, 'I used to have friends. I was never _popular_ but I was sort of friends with everyone.' With Blaine's easy charm and inviting smile Kurt could definitely imagine that. 'I regret _so much_,' his eyes closed with the quiet intensity of his words, 'that they found out I was gay.'

'Blai-'

'I have no friends,' the words spilled from Blaine in a desperate confession.

'You've got me,' Kurt offered instantly. 'I mean, if you want.'

'Thank you,' Blaine said quietly.

The awkward silence threatened again and Kurt quickly packed away his violin as Blaine paced slowly in front of the fireplace. 'So,' Kurt said brightly, 'do you want something to eat?'

'I should probably go,' Blaine fidgeted with his violin case.

'You know, you don't have to go just because you've finished teaching,' Kurt offered tentatively. Blaine's answering smile was shy and gorgeous.

GGGGGGGG

'_You think I'm pretty without any make-up on-'_ Kurt sang quietly along with the radio and span on sock covered feet between the counter and bin. '-_you think I'm funny when I tell the punch-line wrong-' _he dropped the rubbish down with a little flick of his wrist. '_I-'_

_ '-know you get me so I let my walls come down-'_

_ '-down,'_ Kurt finished in soft surprise, eyes wide as he turned around. Smiling, Blaine braced his elbows on the centre counter and sang along. Kurt's quiet voice eventually dwindled away and he stopped to just listen to Blaine sing. Kurt's eyes widened slightly at Blaine's voice, which was quite frankly amazing. He gave a small noise of protest when Blaine stopped singing after the chorus and coughed self-consciously. 'Why'd you stop?' It was out of his mouth before he could think.

Blaine bit his lip and tried not to smile. 'I like singing,' he confessed.

'Keep singing then.' Too blunt and _much_ too eager.

'You said you were in your school's glee club, didn't you?'

'I do love singing,' Kurt admitted. 'But seriously, why aren't you? With your voice you could solo easily with Vocal Adrenaline.'

Blaine pulled a face and shrugged. 'School social structure.'

'That's crap,' Kurt declared and slammed the lid down on the sandwich toaster with unnecessary force. Blaine just shrugged and once again the conversation was at a frustrating end. He was staring down at the counter-top with an unreadable expression when Kurt slid his toasted sandwich in front of him. Not for the first time Kurt wondered if he was making Blaine uncomfortable. 'Blaine,' he began, already cursing his inability to remain silent.

'I feel a bit-' Blaine sat down heavily and slumped his head forward.

'Oh God!' Kurt's plate hit the floor with a crash as he hurriedly shoved out of his seat. 'Blaine! Blaine, are you- is it-' he curled his arm quickly around Blaine's shoulders and leaned down close. 'Is it your neck? Did you hit your head before? Do you have a concussion?' He didn't wait for a response before smoothing Blaine's hair off his neck and running his eyes anxiously over the dressing. Still clean white.

'Just feeling a bit dizzy,' Blaine slowly lifted his head, face pale. He tried for a smile. 'That's all.'

'Put your head back down,' Kurt ordered anxiously. 'Actually you should lay down. Here,' he fumbled for a moment before settling Blaine's arm limply over his shoulders and hoisting him carefully off the stool.

'Kurt,' Blaine leaned heavily into his side, 'I'm fine.'

'You're not fine. I think I should call someone. Should I call your parents? Doctor? Do you have a family doctor?'

'Kurt,' Blaine said clearly over his rambling. Kurt stopped and stared at him with wide eyes. 'I'm fine,' he repeated. 'Just dizzy. I,' his expression crumpled briefly, 'had _such_ a bad day, Kurt.'

In that moment he didn't care if he was overstepping boundaries or being obvious, Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's back and pulled him in close. With something between a tired sigh and a murmur Blaine looped a single arm around his shoulders and gripped the back of his top tightly. Kurt didn't know what to do, it was one thing to start the hug but what did you actually when you had half a guy's body touching your own? He'd never hugged a guy before. Blaine seemed content to just stand there with his cheek turned sideways on his shoulders so Kurt remained frozen on the spot. How did you comfort a guy like this? He knew how to hug Mercedes or Rachel, when they pressed their cheeks together and squeezed each other as tightly as possible but Finn's idea of offering comfort to a guy was a quick pat on the shoulder and a short sentence containing the word 'bro' at least once. Was it supposed to be different for gay guys? Was there a gay guy hug? Kurt took comfort in the fact that if there was Blaine probably didn't know either.

'I'm sorry I've been so silent today,' Blaine sighed over his shoulder. 'I know I was being pretty standoffish. I didn't mean it.'

Kurt tried a soft pat between Blaine's shoulderblades. He received another sigh and the heavier press of Blaine's cheek on his shoulder. Emboldened by the success of that move he flattened his hand and gave a little rub. Blaine breathed out slowly again. He was so _warm_. It wasn't logical but he'd somehow always imagined guys as being colder to touch than girls. Blaine seemed so soft and sad in a way Kurt didn't think guys could be.

'I complained to a teacher today,' Blaine started to talk again. Kurt closed his eyes as Blaine's arm tightened slightly around his back and he actually _felt_ the shift of firm muscles against his shoulder. 'They asked if I was actually gay. I said yes.' Kurt's shirt pulled uncomfortably tight across his chest as Blaine unconsciously gripped tighter at the back of it but he didn't care, it was the most perfect feeling in the world. Someone wanted to pull him closer. 'Then they asked if I had girl friends that could pretend they were dating me.'

The swell of happiness in Kurt's chest faded in the quick clench of anger. 'Jerks. They should change not you. There's nothing wrong with _you_. Look,' he reluctantly drew back and Blaine's arm dropped, 'I get this, I _really_ do. I'm always happy to talk. It's getting me to stop that's hard,' he risked a tiny smile and was relieved when Blaine responded in kind. Somehow he doubted, if today with Blaine's sudden and nervous questions were any indication, that he'd be sitting down for a heart to heart anytime soon, but Kurt did hope.

'I've been out for five months,' Blaine stated. He licked his lip and rolled his shoulders while avoiding Kurt's eyes. 'That's when the bullying started. You asked before.' Kurt nodded slowly.

Reheating and remaking their toasties, Kurt figured that was at least a start from someone who seemed to hate sharing personal information. As they moved from the kitchen to watch a DVD and the conversation to moved away from any mention of Blaine's life he quickly became more talkative and lively. Kurt could keep a conversation alive like no one else and Blaine seemed naturally chatty, it was just in the brief lulls that Kurt would catch the sadder glances down at the floor and sensed there were many more things Blaine was secretly longing to share. Kurt drew his knees up to his chest and settled back into the couch cushions. He could wait.

GGGGGGG

Kurt unfolded his legs and slid off the couch with a neat bounce. Blaine immediately rose to his feet as Burt staggered through the door, loaded down with shopping bags. 'Do you need help?'

Burt shook his head over a bag of oranges. 'Finn's got the rest.'

'-and put them straight in the fridge.' Carole's voice carried through into the lounge and Finn rolled his eyes as he followed Burt through into the kitchen.

'Hello!' Carole waved a quick hello to the two boys before sighing and dropping her shoulders as she hurried into the kitchen. '_No_, Finn. I said they go in the-'

'Finn's my stepbrother and Carole's my step-mom,' Kurt explained to Blaine. He paused at Blaine's guarded expression. 'Is everything okay?'

'Is your dad alright with you being gay?' Blaine asked quickly and quietly.

'Kurt,' Burt stepped around the corner leading into the kitchen and smiled pleasantly, 'a word?'

A firm hand landed on Kurt's shoulder and he found himself steered into the kitchen. 'Dad-' he started.

'Tell me honestly, Kurt, was that going to the violin store yesterday a date?'

'What? No! Dad-!' Kurt paused and wrinkled his nose, 'What kind of person takes someone to a violin store on a _date?'_

Burt stared steadily into Kurt's eyes and bent his head down in a silent prompt. Kurt rolled his eyes. 'Okay,' Burt released Kurt's shoulder and threw his hand up in resignation, 'don't give me that look. I just wasn't expecting your _teacher_ to be your age and a,' he floundered slightly, searching for the right word, 'you know, good-looking kind of guy.'

'Hey,' Finn's voice sounded from the lounge, 'you Kurt's boyfriend or something?' Finn's head appeared around the corner and he stared at curiously at Kurt. 'You never told me you had a boyfriend.'

'Finn!' Kurt hissed and glared at him, gesturing him curtly forward. He seized the front of Finn's shirt and dragged him around the corner, '_Shut up!'_

Finn looked down at him with wide eyes and leaned back slightly. 'Sorry dude.'

With one final glare, Kurt stepped back into the lounge-room. 'I am _so_ sorry,' Kurt pressed his hands together and apologised. 'I live in a zoo.'

'Hey, no problem.' It was hard to see the uncertainty under Blaine's instant smiling mask. 'It must be nice having a brother.'

Finn poked his head around the corner and wordlessly pointed at Blaine with an impressed nod.

Kurt briefly closed his eyes. 'Actually, most of the time I think about selling him on the black market.'

'No one would buy him,' Carole mock whispered and tugged Finn back into the kitchen over the sound of his protests.

Grinning, Blaine pushed himself up off the couch. 'I guess I should probably go. Same time next week suit you?'

'Would you like to stay for dinner, Blaine?' Carole called out.

Coat half on, Blaine froze and looked hesitantly at Kurt. Kurt smiled warmly. 'It's Wednesday, we just have leftovers and watch a movie together on the couches.'

'You're very welcome to stay,' Carole added.

The coat started a slow slip back off his shoulders. 'Are you sure? I don't want to be in the way. Kurt?' That little murmur reached only Kurt's ears and he knew exactly what he was asking.

'My dad knows I'm gay.' Kurt smiled and took his coat from him and hung it back up beside the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**The next chapter, **_**finally. **_**Sorry guys. How amazing was Glee season 3 though? Those red pants...hnnng.**

**Thanks to my lovely beta for making my writing sound more believable :)**

'Oh for the love of-' Kurt muttered and grabbed Blaine's shoulder, 'hold _still.'_

'-_this is all I can take this is how a heart breaks!' _Blaine sang along enthusiastically to the radio and inched his hand out to snatch another cookie off the bench. '_You take a hit now-'_

_ 'I'm _going to hit you if you don't keep,' Kurt shoved him down into the bench stool, 'still.' Lifting the wipe again he passed it over the angry red scratches on Blaine's shoulder again. Just over a month later and imagining how it had been without Blaine was hard. Slowly he had been introduced to a Blaine that smiled at everything, loved to sing and was always ready to drop everything to talk to him. Whenever Carole referred to 'the boys' it was understood Blaine was included in that now. Burt had been surprised one night early on to discover that the boy washing the dishes and singing Alanis Morrisette was not in fact his son. Tentative questions about his parents only met with the appearance of Polite Blaine who replied distantly and never actually revealed anything. Less tentative questions aimed later at Kurt met with the same lack of information because in truth Kurt knew nothing about them. So he was more or less adopted by a concerned Carole and Kurt had no complaints. What had met with complaints was Blaine's point-blank refusal to be paid for violin lessons anymore, it was a prolonged argument that Blaine eventually won.

Blaine cut off mid-line and shot Kurt a reproachful glance over his shoulder. 'Ow.'

'Did anyone see?' Kurt had to ask as he carefully laid the Bandaid on Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine gave a sad shrug. 'No one that didn't think it was a good thing.'

Kurt looked down at the neat dressing over Blaine's scrapes and softly patted his other shoulder. It wasn't unusual anymore for him to patch up Blaine's various bruises and scrapes, this particular one from the edge of a school bench. 'You still up for tomorrow?' He asked casually. Given tomorrow's predicted heat everyone had decided to have a day down by the creek, with various unsubtle hints that Kurt should bring his elusive violinist friend for them to meet. The truth was he and Blaine rarely left the house together, Blaine didn't want to make things worse for Kurt by being seen with him and Kurt felt the same in reverse.

'You sure I'm not going to be in the way?' Blaine nibbled the edge of his cookie. He looked both hopeful and wary.

GGGGGGGGGGGG

The sun was hot against Kurt's arm as he slung his arm out the open car window. Gravel crunched loudly under the tires and dust streamed past the windows, Kurt tapped his fingers over the hot metal. Pushing back a strand of hair, Blaine leaned across and flicked the radio louder.

'_-couldn't see the signs-'_

The back of his t-shirt stuck to his damp back as Kurt shifted and sang. _'Caught in your web of lies-'_

Blaine smacked his hand against the steering wheel and raised his voice. '_It's too dark to sleep!'_

Kurt grinned. _'Too late to pray!' _he yelled back.

'_Too hard to reach!'_

_ 'Too much to save!'_

As the car rumbled down the gravel road they yelled the chorus out together, all wide smiles and tapping hands. Blaine drew the car to a slow, dramatic stop as they belted out the last note of the chorus. The breathless grin faded from Blaine's face as the car engine cooled with a series of loud clicks in the sudden silence. Laughing voices drifted up from the trees and Kurt reached across to push playfully at Blaine's shoulder.

'Hey, it'll be fine,' Kurt shoved open the door and swung his legs out. Blaine remained sat in his seat, somehow smaller than he had seemed before. 'Come on,' Kurt leaned back across and caught Blaine's wrist, skin hot under his fingers. He started to firmly tug him out and Blaine's face broke back into a wide grin as he fought to push his door open. Kurt relinquished him with a quick grin as Blaine slithered hurriedly out his door.

'Not fair,' Blaine pushed his mass of sweat damp curls off his forehead and flashed a perfect laughing grin at Kurt. Kurt felt the now familiar twinge of longing as he watched the way Blaine's eyes sparkled, the breathlessly way he ran his tongue over his lip and tilted his head back to glance through the trees. Kurt had got used to the feeling, it wasn't anything more than a vague little prickle now, something he didn't give much thought. Blaine was gorgeous but needed a friend far more than the trouble a boyfriend would bring. Kurt accepted that with surprisingly little regret. Blaine stretched and groaned at the heat, muscles bunching under his tight grey t-shirt. Kurt's eyes widened minutely. Well, perhaps just a little bit of regret.

'Bitches!'

Both Kurt and Blaine turned as Santana came running through the trees, laughing and yelling over her shoulder. She stopped when she saw them and turned around to yell. 'Hummel and his friend are here!' She pushed her long hair back and walked over in something that could only be described as a prowl. Kurt rolled his eyes and shifted his weight to one leg. 'Santana Lopez,' she held out her hand and slowly squeezed Blaine's. Ever the gentleman, Blaine just smiled back. Footsteps came from amongst the trees and Santana looked away. Blaine shot Kurt a quick exaggerated wide-eyed glance over his shoulder and Kurt stifled a laugh. The rest of the group came sauntering casually from the trees, every move saying they'd just decided on a taking a walk, Kurt's friend? What about him? Certainly not someone they were interested in seeing.

'Kurt!' Tina beamed widely and caught him in a tight hug. Kurt rolled his eyes again as everyone crowded around him enthusiastically, eyes all sneaking sideways at the curly haired boy standing awkwardly to the side.

'Yes,' he extricated himself from Rachel's death squeeze, 'that is Blaine. Everyone say hello to Blaine.' In the greetings and silent assessments that followed Kurt hung back with Finn. When the group finally started back towards the creek Brittney was already linking her arm through Blaine's and leaning her cheek on his shoulder. Blaine flicked a quick glance over his shoulder at Kurt, smiling despite the wary uncertainty in his eyes. Brittney chatted away happily and called out cheerfully to Santana as her and Puck ran past, darting through the trees and shouting.

The dry twigs and leaves crunched underfoot and the sun blazed above the shelter of the trees. Trailing his fingers along the rough bark of a tree, Kurt carefully picked his way down the side of the creek bank. Artie had resigned himself to the indignity of being slung over Finn's shoulder and waved at Kurt from in front, chin propped in his hands and elbows on Finn's back. Towels lay overlapping in the tiny flat area of grass between the creek and the small dirt cliffs.

'You going to swim?' Kurt laid his towel beside Blaine.

Finn and Puck stripped their shirts off with a roar and plunged into the creek. Kurt shielded his face with a grimace as water splashed up and Quinn shrieked furiously at them.

'Maybe later,' Blaine answered finally with laugh. He dropped backwards on his towel and toed his shoes off. 'Your friends are great,' he leaned sideways, propped up on one elbow.

'Kurt!' Mercedes gestured him over enthusiastically.

With a quick apologetic smile at Blaine he came up behind Mercedes and slung an arm around her shoulders. Mercedes and Rachel fussed over Tina's swimsuit, calling in Kurt's opinion as she twirled in front of them, laughing and striking a pose. Laughter turned to screams as Mike gripped her wrist and dragged her backwards. Clapping and hooting, Kurt's grin faded as he glanced at the solitary figure sat to the side. Blaine had a small smile on his face as he watched the friends interact, expression awkward as he remained apart.

'Blaine,' Kurt leaned back across the towels and stretched out his hand, catching the edge of Blaine's towel and tugging. He smiled up at him, 'Hey.'

'Hey,' Blaine smiled back. 'Kur-' he cut off as Brittney slid the plate of cupcakes between them.

'So Blaine,' Rachel seated herself beside him, 'tell us more about Carmel.'

Kurt rolled his eyes and hurriedly swallowed his mouthful of cupcake. 'What she actually means is tell her about Vocal Adrenaline.'

'Actually,' Blaine carefully peeled down the paper, 'I don't have anything to do with Vocal Adrenaline. You probably know more than I do.'

'So you don't sing?'

'Not in a choir, no.'

'Do your parents-'

'Oh stop interrogating him,' Kurt reached across Rachel for another cup cake.

'These are amazing,' Blaine quickly changed the subject, 'did you make them, Brittney?'

'Santana helped.' She gently touched the iced butterflies on top, 'I made those.'

Flopping backwards Kurt closed his eyes, still smiling. The conversation drifted over him with occasional contributions when he opened his eyes. Blaine spoke up eagerly as the conversation turned to music, as it always did with Rachel and Kurt just basked lazily.

It was the clatter of plastic and cups that eventually pulled him out of his doze. Brittney and Rachel's hair was wet from a swim but Blaine remained dry, chatting easily to Mercedes with a slice of watermelon in his hand.

'Swim?' Rachel asked.

Kurt crossed his arms behind his head. 'Only if Blaine does.'

'What?' Blaine's head snapped up. 'No way, I-_Kurt!' _His protests continued even as he let Brittney and Rachel drag him towards the bank, his laughter and half-hearted attempts at struggling saying that really, he was secretly pleased. 'Kurt!' He turned around with a final plea. A desperate hand reached towards him and Kurt couldn't help but laugh. He wiggled his fingers in a little wave. Blaine's eyebrows rose in delighted surprise as Quinn shoved him, feet teetering on the edge he swore and pitched sideways. With a splash and a yell he fell flailing into the water.

Kurt cheered and swiped his hand over his forehead, already sticky again in the heat. Blaine surfaced with a gasp and whoop, paddling frantically around in the cold water. Midway through another breathless little laugh he smiled across at Kurt, water dripping into his eyelashes. Mercedes gave him a knowing look.

'Come on,' Blaine flicked his leg up and kicked water at Kurt, 'everyone in.'

In the end it was just Mercedes and Rachel that drifted down the creek with Kurt and Blaine, lounging back lazily in an inflatable tube. Blaine opted to float silently down on his back, dark curls fanning out around his hair and a permanent smile on his face. Kurt wished he could always look as happy as he did today.

'This is nice,' Rachel hummed, fingertips skimming the water as her tube bounced gently against the creek bank. 'So peaceful.'

The peace was broken with Kurt's surprised squeal as Blaine heaved himself out of the water and into his tube. Water dripped over Kurt's drying clothes as Blaine clambered across him like a heavy, slippery eel. 'Do you-' Kurt wriggled sideways and the inflatable tipped dangerously, 'mind?'

'I was getting tired of paddling,' Blaine explained. He heaved himself across Kurt's legs and slumped back against the tube. Kurt shifted his legs in a final protest before giving up, the tube slowly settling in the water again.

'You're all cold and clammy,' Kurt complained and flicked wet fingers at his face.

'A problem shared is a problem halved,' Blaine said promptly. Their inflatable turned slowly and bumped gently into the side of Mercedes'.

'Watch your driving,' she gave them a shove sideways. 'Boy,' her eyes widened, 'what happened to _you_?'

Blaine unconsciously wriggled down in the tube and crossed his arms around his waist, his t-shirt having ridden up. He shrugged. 'Bit of trouble at school.'

'It's not just a _bit of trouble_,' Kurt couldn't help himself. He quickly shut his mouth, face still set in concern and angry determination.

'Let's not talk about it now,' Blaine tipped his head back, dappled sunlight sliding across his neck, 'today's too perfect for that.'

GGGGGGGG

Voices and running footsteps followed him, laughter and flashes of colour through the trees, the sounds of crackling in the undergrowth and the slap of flip flops against feet. Mike swooped past with a war cry and Kurt spread his arms out, closing his eyes as the sun hit his face and the trees turned to field. Blood pounded in his ears and his heart pounded and he ran as the grass whipped around his knees.

He went down with a thump as wet arms wrapped around his waist and barrelled him sideways. His face buried into warm dirt and grass, the smell of heat and Blaine instantly filling his nose.

'Hi,' Blaine beamed at him and rolled sideways, grass bending and swaying around him.

'Brute!' Kurt shot back, grinning up through grass at the sky.

'This place is amazing.' The grass rustled as Blaine shifted comfortably. 'Imagine bringing the violin down here and playing.'

Kurt groaned and turned his face away. 'No more talking about violin. _Please.'_

'Practice going well?' He teased.

'Shut up.'

They lay in lazy silence, warm under the bright blue sky.

'Are you ever going to tell your dad about school?' Blaine broke the silence.

School. The names and shoves. 'Nah,' he said simply. 'He's better off not knowing.'

'You're not better off though,' Blaine countered mildly. It was an issue they both skirted around, neither could agree on the reasons for the other's silence so they stuck to comfort without discussion. 'Seriously, Kurt, I mean it. You've got friends, and your dad'll do anything to help.'

'You're bullied worse than me.'

Blaine fell silent. The cuts and marks from punches, sometimes it made Kurt feel sick as he sat with Blaine, silently patching him up while Blaine chatted like nothing happened. Everyone seemed to know about it though, from what Blaine said his parents knew and school certainly did.

'One more year,' Blaine said finally.

'One more year,' Kurt echoed. Then school was over. The blue sky suddenly seemed so far away.

GGGGGGG

Kurt snoozed on the way home, feet propped on the dashboard and cheek against the warm headrest. It was dark when Blaine gently shook his shoulder, still sticky and hot with the sound of crickets loud through the open window.

'Home?'

'You drooled on my car.'

'Did not,' Kurt said sleepily and fumbled with his seatbelt.

Blaine undid it for him with a soft chuckle. 'Alright, maybe not. But you did make some pretty cute snoring noises.'

'You coming in?'

'Nah, should head home.' To Kurt's surprise Blaine leant over and pulled him into a rough hug. 'Thanks for asking me along today.'

Kurt blinked in surprise. 'It's no big deal, you can come whenever you like, you know.' Blaine just gave a sad, half-hearted sort of chuckle. Kurt let his hand drifted carefully up Blaine's warm back, touching their heads together. 'Something wrong?' He asked tentatively.

'I was just thinking,' Blaine spoke over his shoulder, 'there isn't much I'd sacrifice a day like today for.'

Kurt wished he could see his face, not just the dark outline of his curls. 'We'll do something like that again soon then. Okay?'

'Yeah,' Blaine gripped his shoulder tightly for one moment, warm and solid pressed against Kurt, then he drew back, 'I'm fine.' He trailed his hand off Kurt's back. 'Bye, Kurt.'

'Bye,' Kurt slid out of the car in slight confusion. He waited until the lights of Blaine's car disappeared down the road before slowly wandering inside.

Finn was already sprawled on the couch when Kurt walked in, yawning. Burt dipped the volume on the tv further and ran his eyes over Kurt. 'You look pretty beat up,' he commented.

The briefest flicker of paranoid fear rushed through him before he sank down tiredly into the couch and smiled his agreement. 'I think I slept the whole way back.' He shoved Finn's legs to the ground and settled back comfortably, ignoring the grunted protest.

'Might not want to get too comfortable just yet,' Burt flicked the tv off altogether, 'Carole's got a wash waiting if you want to go dump your stuff in there.'

With a groan, Kurt heaved himself to his feet. He hummed vaguely to himself, smiling at the memory of Blaine singing as they drove. Even the floorboards felt warm under his bare feet as he padded down the hall to the laundry, the night air hot and still through the open windows. Still humming he kicked his pants off, leaving himself in his boxers. Everyone else was sat, lazy and sleepy in some other part of the house and he couldn't be bothered walking upstairs only to come back down again. Leaning back, Kurt stripped his dirt covered t-shirt over his head and lobbed it across into the basket. No need to care about a cheap t-shirt.

'So,' Burt's voice jolted through his daydreams.

Kurt yelped and crashed backwards into the wall, eyes dropping immediately to the bruises on his side. Mouth dry and heart in his throat he slowly looked up into his dad's unreadable eyes. 'I-'

'Planning on telling me about those?'

'What?' Kurt's voice sounded high and false. He laughed, nervous and completely unconvincing.

'How'd you get them?' Burt dropped the tea-towel he was carrying into the basket.

'Fell,' Kurt said immediately.

'When?'

'Yesterday. And today.'

'Sure seem to fall a lot.'

'Clumsy.'

Burt stared at him for a long moment, Kurt was almost certain he could _hear_ his heart thumping. 'Best put some cream on them then.' He blocked the door with one arm as Kurt tried to slide past. 'You know, Kurt, you can tell me anything, right? Anything.'

'I know,' Kurt said quietly. He flicked a quick smile and hurried out the door. He knew. Or maybe he didn't.

'Wait,' Burt called out suddenly and Kurt's shoulders unconsciously hunched. He slowly turned around. His dad lowered himself to the floor with a groan and patted the boards beside him. 'Sit, Kurt.'

Cringing all over, Kurt slid down and fixed his eyes on his feet. They sat in silence, Burt seemingly content to tip his head back against the wall and stare up at the faint ceiling cracks. Kurt gave up. 'Who told you?' The laughter and perfect happiness of the day faded away and left him tired on the warm floorboards. There was a strange surreal sense to it all, the whine of the crickets outside and the stick of the wall against his hot, bare back, sat half naked in a hallway in silence and resignation. He couldn't even say he felt anything. Maybe just tired. Really tired.

'Doesn't matter.'

'Yes, it does,' Kurt countered quietly with fierce determination.

'Why didn't you ever tell me?'

Sighing, Kurt ran his fingers through his hair and tugged harshly. 'Because-'

'You didn't want me to be worried?'

Kurt nodded into his wrists, hating himself as his eyes started to prickle.

Burt sighed and slung his arm around Kurt's shoulders. 'C'mere. I'm your dad. I'm designed to worry, it's what I do,' he tugged Kurt briefly into his side. 'How long's this been going on? The physical stuff?'

'A while,' Kurt admitted. He rubbed quickly over his eyes and forced his voice to strengthen. 'It's not that bad. It could be worse. I've got Glee cl-'

'Kurt,' Burt spoke clearly over him, 'Glee club hasn't done anything about this.'

'They didn't know,' leaning his head on his dad's shoulder, Kurt let his legs drop to the floor and stared across at the wall. 'I never told them, it doesn't happen every day.' Voices drifted quietly through the wall, Carole mixed with Finn's deeper reply. Kurt's bent head lifted slowly. 'I never told them,' he repeated. 'Dad,' he turned suddenly with a faintly sick expression, 'who told you?'

Burt squeezed his shoulder. 'Finn got home half an hour before you. He told me then.'

'Who told Finn?' Kurt asked clearly. 'Dad, _who told-'_

'Blaine told him, kid.'

Kurt slowly nodded his head. 'Right,' he murmured. 'I-' he crossed his arms around his bare chest. Swallowing, he turned his head away and squeezed his eyes shut. 'I didn't think he'd do that,' his voice was thick and he cleared his throat quickly.

'Hey, don't be angry at him,' Burt warned.

Kurt shook his head quickly, not trusting himself to speak. 'Not angry,' he managed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks again to my lovely beta :)**

**Warning for violence/gay bashing **

'Hello, I'm Kurt Hummel, Blaine teaches me violin,' Kurt hesitated at the end of the sentence, unsure whether to address her as Mrs Anderson. A lack of texts, phone-calls or any means of communication from Blaine had stretched Kurt's short patience and as a result he'd taken the fight to the enemy, so to speak.

The woman's face relaxed slightly and she stepped aside. 'Come in,' she gestured him in, 'Blaine's spoken of you.'

'Thank you,' he hesitated again and added tentatively, 'Mrs Anderson?'

That immediately met with a chuckle, amusement at something Kurt didn't quite understand. 'No. I look after the house when the family's away,' she added gently.

'But Blaine's here?' Kurt slowly ran his eyes over the entrance hall, discretely expensive and tasteful. He felt even more confused. Soft music drifted through the house and he wondered-

'Blaine's upstairs. Across the lounge as far back as you can.' She looked at his expression, 'I'll show you,' she decided.

'No, no,' Kurt said quickly, 'thank you, I'm sure I'll find it.'

There was an awkward silence as Kurt twitched another smile and padded silently up the stairs, feeling an assessing stare on his back. The wide open space of the lounge revealed more of the elegant furnishings, sunlight flooding the room through large glass windows spanning the length of the room. It was perfect if only for the nagging sense of...blandness. They weren't couches to snuggle on in socks, the TV on and dinner balanced on your lap. There was nothing to suggest someone actually _lived_ in this house. The music cut off abruptly and then started again, slower this time. There was a deliberate and exaggerated slow pulse to it and then it stopped again and Blaine's growl of frustration echoed across the room. Kurt slowly lifted his feet and walked silently across the polished floorboards. He could hear the flick of sheet music as he lingered at the end of a long, wide corridor, slow footsteps now muffled on the carpet. Then Blaine started playing again and Kurt froze completely outside his door. Through the small gap he could see the back of Blaine's head, curls loose and tumbling and his muscles shifting under a thin white t-shirt. Kurt removed his hand from the doorframe before he put claw marks in it. He'd never actually seen Blaine _play_, not like this. Kurt secretly knew he'd never play like that, he didn't have the passion that was so obvious in Blaine's playing, the way he moved and took tiny swaying steps across the floor. Kurt always stood rooted to the spot, violin jammed under his chin and back ramrod straight while Blaine just looked...stunning.

'Beautiful,' Kurt murmured as the last note faded and Blaine slowly swung his violin down.

Blaine screamed, high pitched and panicked and he whirled around, eyes wide and violin clutched protectively to his chest. 'Kurt!' His voice cracked. A string twanged faintly under his tight grip and he immediately blushed and coughed in embarrassment.

'I'm sorry,' Kurt stepped forward and apologised profusely while Blaine tried to ramble desperately over him.

They both stopped and the string twanged again.

'You're angry at me, aren't you?' Blaine said. 'I know,' he held up his hand, still gripping the bow, 'you totally should be and I understand completely. I just want you to know I did it because the bullying's got to stop, and I don't care if you have to hate me forever.'

'I won't hate you forever.'

'Good,' Blaine said immediately, 'because I do care and I don't want you to hate me.'

Kurt leaned his head on the doorframe. 'I'm not angry about you telling. Well, I was, but I'm not anymore.'

'Okay,' Blaine nodded uncertainly. He adjusted his grip on the violin with a clatter of bow against wood. 'I was going to call,' he offered suddenly, 'or text.' The bow knocked against the violin again. Kurt was suddenly reminded of Mr Darcy, that awkward scene at the Collins' in the Keira Knightley movie. The thought made him smile fondly at Blaine for a moment. 'What?' Blaine asked defensively.

Kurt shook his head. 'Nothing. Just thinking about Mr Darcy.' He shook his head again, this time at himself. Best not think too much on that or he'd be venturing into wet white shirt territory. 'What I _am_ angry about,' his voice hardened, 'is that you're not doing anything about yourself.' He pushed off the doorframe and gestured curtly at Blaine's face. 'What's that? Hm?' He tapped two fingers to a bruise on his jaw and Blaine jerked his head away. 'They keep beating you up, Blaine!' Kurt's voice rose in frustration. 'And no one's doing a damn thing about it! How come you can look out for me but I can't do the same to you? Don't you trust me?'

'No!' Blaine stepped forward immediately and held his hand up, almost touching Kurt's chest. 'No, that's not it. I trust you, I do , Kurt. You're amazing,' he said earnestly.

'Thanks,' Kurt said, mollified only for a moment. 'But _why_? Let me help,' it was almost a plea. 'Tell your parents, let me tell my Dad.'

'My parents don't give a shit!' Blaine burst out angrily and immediately his face fell. Tipping his head, he reached out and rubbed down the side of Kurt's neck. 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry.' Just a quick brush of calloused fingertips and warm, dry, skin in an almost unconscious gesture. It was such a _Blaine_ gesture that Kurt wanted to throw his arms around his neck and hug him and promise him that he was more lovely than anyone else. But that was probably because he was a little bit in love with him.

'Well I give a shit,' Kurt said firmly.

'And I give a shit about you,' the corner of Blaine's mouth quirked up shyly. 'What happened after your dad spoke to you? He did speak to you, didn't he?'

It was a clear conversation change and Kurt reluctantly took the hint. 'He wants me to tell him everything,' he took the violin out of Blaine's hand and slung his other arm around his stomach, tugging him backwards towards the bed. Blaine dropped back without protest and propped himself up on his elbow, quietly watching Kurt put away his violin. 'He's meeting with Figgins tomorrow,' he clicked the locks down, 'that's why I wanted to come over and just-' he absently stroked the top of the case, 'chat, I suppose. I don't know what to expect.'

'I'm sorry I betrayed your trust.'

Kurt kicked his foot out the way to make room and flopped down beside him. Blaine rolled over onto his back and they stared at the ceiling. 'It's fine,' Kurt said finally. 'I don't think anything will change really. Not unless they expel Karofsky and his friends.'

There was an awkward tension between them somehow, Kurt couldn't quite put his finger on it. Something more than the issue of Blaine having told about the bullying. His smiles, usually crinkling his eyes and bright, seemed to fade faster and there was a...flatness in the way he just stared at the ceiling beside Kurt. If he was being honest he'd secretly expected more of an apology or explanation from him. Kurt shook his head. 'Anyway, are you coming to dinner tonight?'

He was surprised when Blaine shook his head regretfully. 'My parents are coming back tonight.'

'Oh,' Kurt tried to remain uninterested, eyes roving over framed drawings on Blaine's walls. Well that would explain the flatness of his mood. He didn't know what to say or ask, Blaine's blank face giving him no clues, he was afraid of saying the wrong thing when all he wanted to do was help so he remained awkwardly silent.

'They're away a lot. It's for work,' he answered Kurt's silent question. 'That's why the-' he flexed his hands above him before letting them drop with a thump to the pillow above his head, 'violin playing. Helps me focus.' He shifted with a rustle of the duvet and a regretful sigh. 'They don't know I play.'

'But you've been playing for years! You're brilliant!' Kurt couldn't help saying indignantly. He felt sad as Blaine's soft brown eyes looked at him across the pillow. 'They miss a lot, I guess?'

'Yep.'

'Their loss,' it was inadequate and stupid but Kurt didn't trust himself to put into words what he really wanted to say.

'Not really,' Blaine almost didn't seem to hear him, 'teenagers are supposed to have parents but adults aren't always meant to have kids.'

'That's really quite profound,' Kurt said after a thoughtful pause.

Blaine laughed faintly. 'It was, wasn't it? Come on,' he slapped Kurt's stomach lightly, 'let's watch a movie for bit. Unless there's something else you wanted to talk about?'

Kurt shrugged and stretched. 'Leave school and run away with me to New York.'

'Deal,' Blaine looked at him a bit sadly.

Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the window and pooled across Blaine's bed, Kurt stretched his hand into the patch and idly waved his fingers, watching the play of warm light between them. 'Play something?' He suggested. 'Then I'll go before your parents get back.'

Blaine flicked him a smile and swiped his music folder off the stand and sent it sliding across the bed to Kurt. 'Pick something. And I'm sorry,' he added a bit awkwardly, 'I'd introduce you but-'

'I look very gay,' Kurt said delicately, 'I know.' He flashed Blaine a quick smile because it really was okay, well, it wasn't, but he understood. Complicated looking pieces filled each plastic pocket and Kurt's face blanched. His eyes fell on one title and stared at it for a moment before handing the book back up to Blaine. 'Romance?'

Blaine just smiled and tucked his violin under his chin. Kurt bunched a pillow to his chest and settled down contentedly to watch and listen. Blaine's bare feet shifted minutely on the rug, toes curling slowly and heels sliding sideways. Kurt sucked slowly on his lower lip and trailed his eyes upwards. It was easy to drift to the sound of Blaine's playing, sunlight warming his back, his view of Blaine's legs blurring through drooping eyelashes. Easy to lose himself in the clear, warm sound. It reminded him of summer and distant places, with his eyes closed and cheek pillowed on his arms he could almost imagine he was somewhere else. Maybe this was how Blaine felt playing. The mattress rose up soft around him and his breathing slowed peacefully.

'Kurt?' Blaine's voice sounded distant. Kurt sighed and shifted sleepily away from something gently prodding his cheek. It followed him and he frowned, rolling his head to the side and opening his eyes unhappily. He immediately went cross-eyed staring at the tip of a bow poking his nose. 'You fell asleep,' Blaine informed him, 'should I be flattered or insulted?'

Huffing a sigh, Kurt scrubbed over his eyes and stretched with a faint mewl. 'Flattered.'

'Unconvinced.' The base of his violin dropped in front of Kurt's eyes. 'Your turn.'

'No,' Kurt complained weakly and screwed his eyes shut.

'Yes,' Blaine countered and gently bumped the violin against his nose, he could hear the smile in his voice. Kurt's heart lightened a bit at the return of some familiar warmth to Blaine's face and smile. So he really wasn't exaggerating when he said violin playing helped him.

'I can't play any of your super talented pieces,' Kurt still complained even as he sat up and held out his hands, he wasn't very good at saying no to Blaine despite appearances desperately trying to suggest otherwise. The chin rest was warm from Blaine and Kurt found himself softening his grip to a tentative touch, the violin strangely warm and alive under his chin. This was Blaine's violin and he felt he was nervously introducing himself to it, waiting for its opinion and to somehow earn its approval. He slowly pulled the bow across and smiled. 'Teach me how to play a bit of that piece?'

'Just the start,' Blaine agreed and shifted to kneel on the bed in front of him. 'Promise to forget everything I'm showing you now,' he warned, eyes crinkling with a silent laugh.

'Why?'

'Because,' Blaine drew the word out, a tiny frown as he shifted Kurt's hand and fingers, he looked up with a quick smile, 'I say so, that's why.'

'Oh really?' Kurt challenged, half his attention already gone just at the press of Blaine's hand.

'Yep,' Blaine slipped his fingers down Kurt's wrist, straightening it, his thumb tracking a soft line down the inside of his wrist. 'Teacher gets final say.' All Kurt could bring himself to reply with was a snort because Blaine's hand was now circling and gripping his wrist. He obediently pulled the bow across each time Blaine tapped a finger. 'This is a shift,' Blaine murmured and pushed on his hand and slid it up the fingerboard.

'You don't have tape marks on,' Kurt winced as he hit the wrong note and Blaine shifted his finger.

'They take those off when you're in the big kid class,' Blaine replied absently, he grinned and avoided Kurt's glare. Closing a soft hand over Kurt's on the bow he guided him.

The sound was faltering and appalling after Blaine's playing, but it felt perfect. Kneeling in the sun with the constant brush of Blaine's hands over his, Blaine's knees a dip away from his on the mattress, the small murmurs of encouragement. The bruise on Blaine's jaw was just a dapple in the sunlight, a shadow cast by his hair falling around his face. He felt strangely privileged to be allowed into Blaine's private world like this and there was no doubting this was his own world, the teasing had faded to quiet concentration as Blaine wordlessly guided his hands. Kurt's breath caught when Blaine looked up and met his eyes. Their hands slowed and stilled together in the sudden peaceful quiet of the room. Unable to look away from Blaine's warm brown eyes, Kurt could only _feel_ the slow drift of fingertips over his wrist and up into his palm. His skin tingled and he kept his grip tight on the violin, not moving, not blinking in case it broke the spell.

Gravel crunched outside and car doors slammed and Blaine jerked his hands away. Kurt was left blinking his way back into reality as his heart suddenly pounded in his throat and his stomach flipped, his hands too warm and buzzing. Blaine scrambled over the bed and flicked a glance out the window, cursing and spinning back around to grab Kurt by the arm and haul him off the bed. For once, Kurt kept quiet. He understood, he really did, but it still...hurt. Blaine's hand squeezed his upper arm painfully and the door hit his hip as he was hurriedly pulled through. He still kept quiet and kept his head down. Their footsteps clattered down the stairs and Kurt gripped the end of the banister and tried to steady himself. There wasn't time to take in the surroundings, Blaine's pace increasing and grip tightening as the front door opened and voices echoed cheerfully across the entrance. Kurt staggered as he was more or less flung out the backdoor. He caught his balance and took a small step away from Blaine and curled his hand around his bruised arm. Standing half out the door with his hands gripping the sides, Blaine looked panicked and ashamed, nowhere near as ashamed as Kurt felt though.

'Blaine?' Someone called inside.

'I'm sorry,' Blaine mouthed silently at him, eyes pleading. Kurt just nodded awkwardly and slipped around the side of the house.

GGGGGG

The next time Kurt saw Blaine was at the Lima Bean when he stopped by with Rachel for a coffee. He was standing in line with a man and as Kurt stood watching the man turned to speak to Blaine and revealed a profile identical to his. The same curly hair too, only his was trimmed neatly and streaked with grey. He just looked normal. Kurt didn't know what he'd been expecting really, his mind unconsciously constructing a picture of a tall sallow man with a suit and an angry expression. Blaine turned around to lean his back against the edge of the counter, replying while running his eyes absently over the shop. Their eyes met and Kurt blushed and twitched his hand in a small greeting. Blaine looked away without acknowledgement and Kurt shrank in on himself a little. Still, he pushed Rachel towards a table before she could catch sight of him and barrel over with her usual lack of subtlety. He made sure they waited until the pair had moved to a table on the opposite side of the floor before going up to order. Enthusiastic about the latest glee club solo opportunity, Rachel talked excitedly and without needing much input to keep her one person conversation going. Kurt looked at her fondly as she talked and span her coffee cup through her hands.

'Bathroom,' he managed to slip in in a brief pause for breath.

Stealing a surreptitious glance as he came back out of the bathroom his eyes fell on Blaine and his father's empty table and his shoulders drooped. Biting his lip, he ducked through a group of people queuing and made his way slowly back to his table. His heart jumped as someone grasped the back of his jacket and pulled him to hide behind the queue.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' Blaine draped himself over his side and hit his forehead on his shoulder, 'I'm sorry,' he repeated, muffled miserably into Kurt's jacket. 'I don't even know how your dad's talk with Figgins went and I haven't called and I missed our lesson and I only sent a text and I was a total asshole that afternoon.' He hit his forehead again. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry.'

'How's it going with your parents at home?' Kurt asked carefully.

Blaine drew back with a loud, shuddering inhale and then slumped his shoulders. 'Awful. I mean, I'm glad to see them, sort of, but they're like distant cousins you only see at-' he gestured in frustration, '-at Christmas or something. And it's okay until the conversation stops being superficial and then suddenly I realise how terrible they are at actually being, you know, _parents_ and-' he gave up with another frustrated shrug and let his hands slap down to his sides. 'It's all very forced politeness and it's driving me insane.'

Kurt pulled him into a quick hug, feeling him relax gratefully and whisper another apology against his neck. 'I know, I won't deny it hurt, but I understand. And there's nothing to tell about Figgins yet, he wants proof I really have been bullied.'

Blaine twitched a smile and squeezed Kurt's shoulder in wordless thanks. 'I didn't even get a chance to tell you how good you sounded playing my violin.'

'Liar,' Kurt said immediately and smiled, 'I sounded terrible and you know it.'

To his surprise Blaine shook his head honestly. 'You never sound terrible, you sound like you're learning and that's a great sound.'

Kurt felt oddly flustered and flattered. 'Come over this afternoon?' He heard himself saying. He looked over his shoulder as Blaine's eyes drifted.

'Sorry,' Blaine snapped his attention back to him, 'my dad's outside on the phone, I'm supposed to be getting him another coffee. But yes,' he smiled warmly and with a hint of determination, 'I will. I'll get away.' He clapped Kurt's shoulder, 'Look forward to hearing how much you've been practising,' he flashed him a quick grin before darting forward to get his coffees and hurry out the door.

'Was that Blaine?' Rachel stared out the window as Kurt stopped by their table.

'Yes,' Kurt watched Blaine walk past. 'And I have to go home and practice,' he added, slightly urgently.

There was of course other distractions once he was home that outweighed his interest in the violin. He'd come to sadly realise that his interest in playing was tied very closely to the presence of Blaine and his hands on his shoulder, elbow, wrist, fingers. He vowed never to breath a word of that to anyone though, because that would mean the end of lessons and the end of legitimate excuses to have Blaine's hands on him. Such as that was, the guilt of a week without practice hit him in one go as he heard the opening of the front door downstairs and Blaine's voice greeting Carole.

'Kurt?' There was a knowing smile in Blaine's voice as he called warningly up the stairs. He always knew. Bastard.

'I'm practising, I'm practising!' Kurt yelled as he hurriedly tightened his bow and jammed his violin under his chin. Footsteps pounded up the stairs and Kurt desperately flicked through the music folder. Blaine flung the door open just as Kurt dragged the bow across the strings in a desperate screech.

'Busted!' Blaine strode across and snatched up the music folder. 'Wrong folder, this is your glee club music.'

Kurt immediately changed tack and shuffled sideways to lean his head pathetically on Blaine's shoulder. 'I was just about to? I was tired and I did practice earlier today.'

'Give me your hand,' Blaine demanded. Kurt quietly hid his hand behind his back. 'Kurt,' Blaine warned. Sighing, Kurt rolled his eyes and set his shoulders, holding out his left hand and staring out the window as Blaine looked at his fingers. 'Lying!' Blaine said triumphantly. 'No marks on your fingers.'

'Who are you, Sherlock?' Kurt said bitterly. He snatched his hand back and tried to flick a wounded glance at Blaine, the tremble of his lips ruining it as Blaine just fixed him with an amused gaze. 'Oh fine,' Kurt gave up and thrust his violin into Blaine's hands, flopping back on the bed and slinging an arm across his eyes, 'I hate that piece and I sound gross.'

'Poor baby,' Blaine said unsympathetically.

'Shut up.' Kurt pushed up on his elbows, 'So you got free of your parents?'

'Yep,' Blaine perched on his chair and tucked his legs up. 'They're trying to catch up on four months worth of my life and I'm going to go mad.' He met Kurt's gaze and shrugged. 'If they were really interested maybe they'd call me sometimes. Besides, their attempts at quick fixes before they leave again only make things worse.' He bumped his chin on his knee. 'I think it's a guilt thing.'

'But they do care?'

Blaine shook his head. 'Just enough to ease their conscience,' he said easily. 'Mom was the one that outed me actually, I worked up the courage to tell her when she came home one time and she had no idea what I'd been going through or what things are like here, so she just told everyone. That's when the stuff at school really started.'

Kurt sat in silence with him for a moment, just listening to the sounds of Carole yelling for Finn downstairs. 'Stay the night?'

Blaine nodded, 'Thanks.' He coughed and flushed a little. 'Actually I brought my stuff in the car, I was going to ask you if I could.'

It was a welcome return to normal to wander downstairs, Blaine sliding down on sock covered feet like usual, and watch tv together. The sounds of Finn dragging the washing-basket down the hall and outside had Kurt yelling a warning and hurrying after him, rescuing his clothes before Finn massacred them with pegs. Blaine drifted into the kitchen and perched himself on a stool and started helping Carole with the cooking.

Dinner was as relaxed and informal as ever, Blaine's presence at the table no longer changing anything. Burt and Finn had long since stopped making an effort to use knives, using just a fork instead, and Carole started pulling around the extra chairs to rest her legs on again. The loud ring of someone's phone was the only thing that managed to put halt to an energetic debate on the merits of season six Bones.

'I'm so sorry,' Blaine apologised as he hastily pushed out of his seat, phone halfway to his ear. 'My Mom.' Carole waved him away with a smile and he slipped into the living room, pulling the door closed quietly behind him.

'I'm over at a friend's, I told you I might...' Blaine's footsteps could be heard slowly pacing, 'no I did tell you...okay, but I did...I...yes...just a friend...no_, a friend!'_ Blaine's voice rose angrily before he fell silent again. 'Really?' He sounded bitter.

Everyone clanked their cutlery loudly against their plates and Burt coughed and Carole hit the spoon against the dish as she got another serving. It was the forced loudness of a group that were secretly listening as hard as they could.

'No,' Blaine laughed shortly and without humour. The door opened and everyone shifted hastily in their seats. Kurt pushed his broccoli slowly around his plate. 'I'm sorry,' Blaine apologised again as he slipped back into his seat.

'So what do your parents-' Burt started.

'More pie?' Kurt cut across loudly and held up the dish.

'It might be nice to meet Blaine's parents some day is all I'm saying,' Burt fixed Kurt with a look.

'They're not often home,' Blaine smiled easily, only Kurt saw the quick drum of his fingers on his leg under the table, 'or in the country,' he added with a small laugh.

'Maybe we could have them round for dinner one night?' Burt offered, looking at Carole who nodded and smiled.

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand briefly under the table as he wasn't left with any option but to agree vaguely. Blaine remained quiet for the rest of dinner.

Sleeping beside Blaine that night revealed that, not only did Kurt had excellent self control, Blaine was a snuggler. His breath drifted across the back of Kurt's neck and his chest and stomach pressed against Kurt's back with each slow inhale. He was also a blanket stealer and a mattress hog. The back and side of Kurt's body burnt under Blaine's furnace-like heat while his toes and hands slowly froze hanging off the side of the bed. Carefully craning his neck, Kurt tried to ignore the soft slide of Blaine's cheek down his neck and ran his eyes over the expanse of empty bed behind Blaine. With great reluctance he untangled himself from Blaine's grasp and slipped out of the bed. Despite his resolve, he couldn't help but stand for one moment in dark and silent room, just quietly watching the flick of Blaine's eyes under his eyelids. He looked so small and vulnerable.

Kurt could have wailed when he woke up again to Blaine sprawled over his back. It wasn't fair, his resolve to move only stretched so far when there was a warm expanse of _boy_ pressed over his body. Again. Both Blaine's arms were curled between his chest and the mattress, his head a heavy weight on the back of his neck. A vaguely damp patch suggested Blaine was drooling a bit too. That should be disgusting but it was just sort of adorable, as were the little sighing snores muffled into his hair. His face was mashed into the pillow and he was slowly being crushed, Kurt huffed a muffled sigh into the fabric. 'Blaine,' he muttered. He wriggled an arm out and slapped awkwardly at Blaine's side. 'Blaine.' He blindly seized a handful of fabric and tugged. His fingers brushed along warm skin and Kurt snatched his hand back, freezing and holding his breath as though Blaine was suddenly going to wake up. Still sprawled limply across Kurt, Blaine slept peacefully on. Maybe it was a comfort thing. Maybe this was what Blaine subconsciously wanted after the phone call from his mother, whatever that had been about. Kurt gave up and just tried to go back to sleep.

The smell of burning toast was drifting across the room the next time Kurt woke up, sunlight behind the curtains and the usual clatter from the kitchen below. There was also a head on his chest, an arm around his stomach and another patch of drool. Kurt gave up and flopped his head sideways on the pillow, staring at the wall opposite and definitely not at the fan of Blaine's eyelashes or the soft part of his lips. It was just...nice. Nice to wake up in someone's arms, their heartbeat steady against his ribs and the soft, regular press of a body with each breath. Sadly Blaine wasn't his to wake up to like this.

'Up,' Kurt slapped lightly at the arm slung over him. 'Come on, breakfast, school.'

Blaine blinked sleepily and slowly tilted his head up, cheek dragging along Kurt's chest. His sleepy morning smile was the most perfect thing Kurt had ever seen. He muffled his yawn into Kurt's tshirt and slowly rolled away, his lazy stretch brushing his bare foot down Kurt's leg. 'Snfrg,' he groaned and flopped onto his stomach, already closing his eyes and drawing the duvet closer in to his chest.

There was really only one option. The option that wasn't rolling on to Blaine and wrapping him in his arms. Kurt slipped out of bed and ripped the duvet off with him. Blaine moaned and curled up into a ball, all bare legs and tight fabric. That was a bit too much to cope with on a Monday morning, Kurt hurriedly disappeared into the bathroom.

GGGGGG

'A little bit higher on fourth,' Blaine said softly.

'Can't we just talk for a bit?' Kurt tried to plead once again. Blaine just shook his head as he'd done all the times before and kept talking in the same low, soft voice. Since he'd arrived half an hour ago, violin in hand and face carefully blank, Blaine hadn't spoken of anything other than the lesson. He was walking with a faint limp and Kurt knew once again there would be a bruise on his hip but Blaine refused to acknowledge his questions with anything other than a shake of his head. They hadn't spoken all week, _again_, and Kurt was starting to quietly fear that he wasn't everything Blaine had originally thought he'd be as a friend. He didn't know anything further about his parents or school and now he was starting to doubt whether he should tell Blaine about his own problems, scared that maybe he wouldn't want to hear anymore. He'd been thrown again at school the day before and he knew he should have gone to Figgins, told him and shown him the proof he wanted, but he hadn't, still unsure of what was best to do.

'Lower half,' Blaine murmured again. Kurt stared at him sadly, he really wanted to talk with Blaine about it. After five more minutes, Blaine stepped back and kept his head down as he spoke. 'I think we can leave it there today.' No teasing about Kurt's practice habits, no encouragement like usual.

'Have I done something wrong?' Kurt asked miserably.

'What?' Blaine looked up sharply.

Kurt shrugged and let his violin hang by his side and told himself it would be stupid to cry over this. His eyes prickled anyway.

'Oh, shit,' Blaine rose to stand awkwardly in front of him, 'no, no of course not. I'm just – I'll be better in a few weeks, I promise.'

Kurt flopped his arms helplessly by his sides and shrugged again. 'Could I maybe get a hug then?' He tried not to sound pathetic, he really did. His heart sank when Blaine just pulled a strange face and reached out to grip his shoulder tightly.

'I would,' Blaine's voice was choked, smile forced, 'but then I think I'd break down on your shoulder. Really-' he tried to smile again, 'really ugly, messy tears.'

'Well,' Kurt shifted his bow and reached up to cover Blaine's hand on his shoulder, understanding and remaining away from him, 'I miss you anyway, you should call. Or you know, text, I know you know how to do that.'

Blaine finally cracked a real smile, albeit a slightly watery one. 'You're my best friend, you know that, right?'

Warmth flared in Kurt's chest and he squeezed Blaine's hand briefly. 'I do now.'

'Well,' Blaine cleared his throat and drew back to busy himself with his violin case, 'I'm going to go, but um, keep your phone on you tonight.'

Naturally Kurt spent the rest of the day with his phone in his pocket, constantly checking it in case he missed the buzz of a new message. As each hour passed he grew more and more depressed and consequently more and more angry with himself because Blaine had said, after all, _tonight_ and four in the afternoon didn't really count as night. At eight o'clock the cryptic message came, just as dusk was starting to set in.

So at quarter past eight Kurt found himself parking around the block and stealing up Blaine's driveway, feet silent on the grass under the loud chirp of the crickets. The night air was warm and sticky and he could see the light from Blaine's open window on the second floor. Feeling extremely creepy and like a bit of an idiot, Kurt pulled out his phone and sent Blaine a text, as per instructions.

Seconds later Blaine's head poked out the window and he waved down at Kurt, his excited expression the opposite of earlier that day.

'Seriously, what the hell, Blaine?' Kurt called up, as softly as he could while still trying for a bit of an demanding hiss.

'Mickey D's run,' Blaine sat on the windowsill, 'I could really go some ice-cream.'

'And you couldn't just meet me there because-?'

'Parents,' was all Blaine said and rolled his eyes. He shifted further along the windowsill with one last glance over his shoulder.

'What are you _doing?'_ Kurt hissed up at him.

'It's fine,' Blaine whispered down, grinning excitedly. He grasped the branch and swung his legs over the windowsill.

'Oh my God,' Kurt spun around and covered his mouth, 'I can't watch.' The tree rustled behind him and he immediately whipped around, groaning faintly and pressing his hand tighter over his mouth. 'Don't you dare fall!' He hissed around his fingers. Blaine inched slowly down the branch and Kurt tracked his every move with his heart in his mouth. One hand on the branch with his feet and the other braced on the one above him, Blaine shuffled down in a crouch. Kurt circled restlessly under him. 'Haven't you seen Pollyanna? You know what happened to her, right?'

'Which version?' Blaine leaned his head over the branch conversationally. 'Because it was actually a car in the original book.'

'Just _get down here_,' Kurt leaned his hands against the trunk, pressing up on his toes as though to reach closer to Blaine. Shoes scuffed against bark and Kurt heard the quick thump of a hand against a branch and he felt sick. This was going to end in the hospital. He waited in anxious silence, unable to see Blaine anymore amongst the leaves. Something suddenly thumped down in front of him and he shrieked, clapping a hand over his mouth and darting forward.

'Hey, hey,' Blaine whispered and gripped his shoulders, grin wide and eyes sparkling in the faint house lights, 'it's me.'

Kurt slapped his hands away. 'I know it's you!' He smacked his side. 'You moron!'

'Ah but you weren't sure.'

'I was sure it was your body plummeting to the ground!' His protests were cut off with a squawk as Blaine squeezed him into a tight hug, chuckling against his neck before drawing back and clapping him on the shoulder.

'Come on,' Blaine looked at him fondly, 'let's go get ice-cream.'

'Idiot.'

Blaine left his arm slung around his shoulder as he tugged him quickly down the drive, both of them breaking into a jog and then a run, Blaine's laughter infectious as they leaned against Kurt's car, trading grins and pants of laughter.

'Come on!' Blaine smacked the side of the car and bounced across onto the seat. The light of the car was bright against the dusk outside and their voices breaking the still night. Kurt felt so ridiculously happy just to be sat beside Blaine again, the Blaine that laughed and sang and beat his hand on the seat until Kurt started the engine. Eyes closed and grin wide, Blaine leaned his head out the window and let his curls ruffle around his face. Kurt flicked the volume on the radio higher and Blaine screwed up his face dramatically and sang aloud, obnoxiously loud and wonderfully alive. That was the only way he could really describe it. _Alive_. A contrast to the Blaine who sometimes looked like all he could do was fade further into the background. Somehow just being around Blaine when he was like this made Kurt feel better himself. Blaine reached across and touched his arm, smiling warmly when Kurt caught his eye curiously.

'We'll talk tomorrow, yeah? If you want,' he added hastily, looking relieved when Kurt nodded firmly. 'It's-' he nodded and chewed his lip as he searched for words, 'good to talk to you,' he finished finally, his smile saying more than his words. 'It helps. But just for tonight,' he leaned his head out the window again, 'ice-cream. And maybe some help figuring out how to get back up that tree,' he added, 'I didn't think about that part.'

Kurt opened his mouth and then shut it again. 'You look like a spaniel with your head out the window,' was all he said finally. He couldn't help laughing as Blaine started barking.

There was just the two of them and three other boys at McDonalds. Blaine's face hardened slightly as he glanced at them but he just shrugged at Kurt and steered them into a small booth in the corner. 'Brothers of some guys at school,' was all he said. None of the guys made any move towards them or said anything and within minutes Kurt had forgotten about them. It was so nice just to chat with Blaine again, tease and argue and listen to Blaine passionately defend his music choices.

Kurt tilted the cup and scraped out the last of the m&m's out, slowly drawing the spoon between his lips as he eyed the cup critically. Blaine's soft laughter made him look up questioningly, spoon hanging from his mouth. He removed the spoon and angled his chin. 'What?'

Blaine chuckled again, something between a laugh and a murmur. 'Nothing.' He leaned across the table and cupped Kurt's face, ignoring his squeak of surprise. Kurt watched wide-eyed as Blaine sat up in his seat, face burning red under the clasp of Blaine's warm, dry hands. Blaine leaned across the table and pressed a firm kiss to his cheek and drew back still grinning.

They just kept talking afterwards as thought it never happen, Kurt's voice perhaps slightly higher for the first minute or so. Leaving for the bathroom, Kurt looked back to find Blaine gazing fondly after him. He almost walked into the wall.

Something felt wrong when he came back out. Too quiet. Without really knowing why, Kurt slowly stopped.

There were two of the three boys in a corner with people standing over them. There was blood. It looked like a fight. Kurt's heart started to pound faster and he drew in a loud breath as his stomach clenched sickeningly. He took a step forward, eyes fixed on the two crouched women by a table. His and Blaine's table.

Someone was laying still on the ground.

Kurt froze and whimpered.

One of the men standing over the boys looked up and his eyes widened, he called something to one of the women.

His knees hit the tiles by Blaine's head and he dropped sideways. 'Blaine?' He whispered, sobs he didn't had started cracked his voice and shook his body. Blaine opened his mouth faintly and soundlessly and blood streaked across his lips.

Kurt choked out a little gulp and touched his shaking fingers to Blaine's cheek. Blaine's wide brown eyes blinked slowly, his gaze never leaving Kurt's as they stared into each other's eyes. Tears leaked steadily from Kurt's to the floor. Blaine's throat moved in a thick swallow, the sound lost under the blur of meaningless noise surrounding them. Kurt dropped his hand to the tiles and under Blaine's chin, the warmth of his body just grazing the tip of his knuckle. There was so much blood. He didn't know what he could touch. Footsteps rushed and pounded around them and people yelled and sobbed and pleaded and Kurt kept his eyes locked with Blaine's. The thick trickle of blood was widening down his forehead and matting his curls to his skin, the puddle on the tiles growing between their heads. Blaine's body suddenly rocked and his head shifted and someone pressed something to his head, their hands cupping his forehead and the press of their fingers on his skin desperate. Still Blaine didn't move, just another blink. Hands gripped his own shoulders and side and someone spoke to him. Kurt didn't even hear them, just the buzz of noise, nothing registered. Then Blaine's eyes simply closed.

It was like someone yelled in his ear. The floor was suddenly cold and the lights bright and his heart pounding in his throat. Kurt screamed and lunged forward, arms locked around his chest and hurled him backwards and he kept screaming. Knees dug in his back and feet scrabbled around him as he was dragged back, kicking and sobbing and pleading. Blaine lay curled and helpless on the tiles and Kurt begged desperately for him and strained against the arms holding him back. The lights brightened unbearably, the squeak of his shoes sliding on the floor impossibly slow and loud, his screams dying in his throat. Kurt's head lolled back and his eyes slid shut.


	6. Chapter 6

**Still post bashing trigger warnings**

'-and Mercedes stormed out and Sam ran after her and Rachel immediately cornered Mr Schue,' Kurt talked absently and flipped the pages of his textbook. 'Sometimes I feel sorry for him,' he scanned down the list of answers with his pen, 'but then I remember how hopeless he is,' Kurt shrugged and scratched out half his working. Blaine remained still and silent on the bed in front of him, just the quiet beep of the various monitors and Kurt's one-sided conversation inside their little world. With the curtains drawn around the bed the voices and sounds of the hospital seemed far away. Kurt's maths textbook and workbook lay on the bed beside Blaine and he sat half out of the chair, elbows propped on the mattress as he talked quietly to Blaine and studied.

'Kurt,' Blaine quietly broke through Kurt's rambling monologue. 'Hey,' he said weakly and tried to shift, smiling as Kurt immediately wriggled the pillows behind him. Three days later and bruising had swelled his face, turning what was visible around the bandages shades of purple and blue. Not as bad as shock had made it the first day Kurt came in, where he'd burst into tears and stood gulping and shaking at the foot of the bed until a nurse came.

'Everyone from glee club came around before,' he informed Blaine, trying like always to keep his tone light despite the clench of his throat each time he looked at the swathes of bandages around his face. 'Rachel somehow made you a singing get well card with her voice.' There was no response as Blaine's attention wandered absently. Smile fading, Kurt traced the tube where it went from Blaine's arm to a bag above his bed. Blaine spent most of his time asleep with painkillers or drifting in a vague state of awareness that scared Kurt more than he could possibly say, scared each time Blaine looked blankly at him before recognition gradually dawned.

Blaine swallowed and blinked slowly before speaking again. 'Thirty-six not thirty-nine,' he tapped his thumb clumsily over the workings on Kurt's page. The bandages and dressings covering his hand rasped over the paper and Kurt waited in horrible silence for him to move his hand away again. 'I-' Blaine muttered and Kurt wordlessly slipped his hand under Blaine's wrist and lifted it back onto the blankets. His stomach twisted into knots as it did each time Blaine froze, almost like he just forgot how to move, when his hand would get halfway there then just stop. Blaine had muttered that the doctors said it would fix itself, effects of medication and concussion, but Kurt had found him the next day with his hands draped over his chest and tears soaking down into his bandages. Kurt didn't mention the violin and Blaine didn't say anything but he could take a guess at what was going through Blaine's mind in the long silences where he stared down at his hands. Piecing together what information he could, Kurt learnt the physical damage to his hands had been done when he'd tried to protect his face from being kicked. He'd never thought he could hate people as much as he did in that moment. Kurt knew the men responsible had been caught but it wasn't _enough._

Kurt opened his mouth to change the subject and slowly closed it again. Blaine had drifted again. Swallowing around the now familiar lump in his throat, Kurt picked up his pen and started the maths in silence. Nurses came and went and Kurt didn't bother with checking the time, everyone knew where he was.

'How you feeling?' Blaine twitched his finger up where Kurt's fingers lay absently over his. He blinked hazily up at him.

'I'm fine,' Kurt said automatically and withdrew his hand, closing and neatening his little pile of homework.

'Don't have to come in every day, you know,' Blaine shifted uncomfortably again and his voice was fuzzy from sleep and the swelling around his mouth, 'm'not going anywhere.'

'The nurses are used to me now,' he said distractedly, 'they even bring me food,' he forced a smile and held up an empty container of jelly. Blaine stared silently up at him and Kurt straightened his books again, flustered and eyes prickling.

'Not your fault.'

Kurt shook his head in a quick jerk.

'It's not,' Blaine struggled to say clearly.

Kurt's face crumpled and his head sagged even lower. Tears he had promised himself he'd never show before Blaine ran down his cheeks and he splayed his hands over his face, hunching forward into his hands.

'Hand,' Blaine ordered as firmly as he could through slurred, awkward vowels. Kurt shook his head miserably. 'I'm going to reach up and take it,' he threatened.

'No,' Kurt tried not to sound so pathetic and young as he twisted his face blindly away from Blaine. He felt stupid and utterly to blame.

'I'll pull my stitches and the nurses will be angry and they'll stop bringing you food and you'll starve doing your homework.'

Despite himself, Kurt spluttered a weak, messy chuckle into his hands and lowered them to slump and gaze directly into soft hazel eyes. 'It was my fault,' he said simply. Unable to keep looking as Blaine just stared at him, he looked away with a discreet sniff and fumbled in his pocket.

Blaine's eyelashes were still as long and beautiful as ever as he blinked softly. 'You'll come back tomorrow?' He asked quietly.

Something snapped and sagged in Kurt, the tiredness that fear and guilt had overwhelmed spread through him and he wiped a scrunched tissue over his face. 'Couldn't keep me away.' He stuffed the tissue into his bag and busied himself with his books, willing himself not to break down completely. 'Do you want me to bring you anything?'

Blaine just shook his head and twitched the corner of his mouth up in a smile, his eyes starting to lose focus once again.

'Blaine?' The edge of the curtain twitched back and Kurt glanced vaguely over his shoulder, expecting the familiar blue uniform of a nurse. He drew in a sharp breath as he recognised the same man from that day at the coffee shop, Blaine's father.

'He's asleep,' Kurt said woodenly. He didn't need to look down to check, he'd lost count now of the number of times he'd seen Blaine fade from speech into unconsciousness within seconds.

'Oh,' the man withdrew his head and murmured something to someone else then the curtain twitched back further and two people slipped through. 'You are-?'

'Kurt,' he hitched his bag in tighter to his side, 'I'm a friend of Blaine's. I was there when-' he choked and pressed his lips tightly shut.

'Ah.' It was like Blaine's parents didn't know where to look, his mother's eyes running over the equipment and the frame of the bed while avoiding the unconscious figure lying under the green blanket. They both looked so...normal. Blaine's mother was tiny, slim with soft blonde hair and brown eyes. Her hands were clasped together in warm looking mittens and her husband rubbed his hand absently up and down her arm. Where Blaine's father was a mirror image of him, there was nothing of his mother in his face.

Kurt glanced between Blaine's still form in the bed and his parents standing several feet away and awkwardly stepped aside.

'No, no,' his father saw his hesitant step, 'don't leave on our account, we're just going.'

'Oh,' Kurt almost recoiled, 'but,' he couldn't help saying, 'he'll probably wake up soon,' his voice trailed off as they remained silent and at the edge of the curtain barrier.

'Best not bother him. Mention we stopped by if he wakes up. I'm Jack,' he added quickly and thrust out his hand. Kurt leaned awkwardly over the bed to shake it. Stopped by. Like they dropped in for a visit on their way through the neighbourhood, not coming to the hospital to visit their son.

'Sara,' Blaine's mother smiled quickly.

The curtain twitched again and Kurt was left alone by Blaine's side.

The issue of Blaine's parents had never been brought up and never was. He knew they'd been there that night when Blaine was brought in but other than that he didn't know. Blaine briefly mentioned they were flying out somewhere the day he was being discharged and Kurt just nodded and talked lightly about something else until they could both pretend Blaine hadn't been on the verge of tears.

GGGGGGGGG

Fear clutched at his throat as Kurt padded from his dad and Carole's bedroom. He dropped his phone into the small bag of clothes on his shoulder and closed the door behind him, hearing the sleepy murmur of voices as Burt explained to Carole.

'Okay?' Finn poked his head around his door and blinked sleepily at him. 'Nightmare?' Kurt could see him struggling to pull himself into proper wakefulness. On more than one occasion Finn had come staggering into Kurt's bedroom at the sound of panicked screams and Kurt had woken up to find Finn patiently sat beside him, comforting hand on his shoulder.

'I'm going to Blaine's. Dad knows,' Kurt hurried past, snatching his shoes up and hopping to jam his feet into them on his way to the door.

'Blaine okay?' Finn trailed after him.

'I think he's just-' Kurt didn't need to say any more for Finn to understand. 'It's his first night out of hospital.'

'See you at school?'

'Yep,' Kurt called over his shoulder. He rubbed his arms in the cold night air as he jogged quickly over to his car and threw himself into the seat.

The key was under the mat where Blaine said it would be and Kurt let himself into the silent house and kicked his shoes off. He ran silently up the stairs in the dark and stopped outside Blaine's door, the light from inside spilling out over his toes. Kurt inched the door open and Blaine's face turned towards him from the bed.

'Hey,' Kurt breathed.

'I'm sorry,' Blaine shivered, eyes big and scared in the soft light of the lamp. 'I just didn't-'

'How bad is it?' Kurt let his bag fall to the rug as he walked across to the bed.

Blaine shook his head and curled up with another shiver. 'Just feel weird.'

'What sort of weird?' Kurt persisted gently and laid his hand over Blaine's forehead.

'Just weird,' Blaine turned his face into the pillow and kept shuddering under the duvet.

Kurt kept his voice steady as he inched his hand blindly into his pocket. 'Blaine, Blaine, look at me. How the doctors said you might feel from the medication?' His fingers brushed the corner of his phone.

Blaine nodded weakly and a tear squeezed out the corner of his eye to sink into the pillow. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered thickly.

'Hey, don't apologise,' Kurt said soothingly with a calmness he didn't feel and stroked his hair back. 'Are you sure?' Another nod and Kurt kicked out of his shoes and clambered over the bed behind Blaine's curled up shape. 'I'll be right here,' he promised and settled his head on edge of Blaine's pile of pillows, careful not to jostle Blaine's head as he moved. Just in case. He draped his hand lightly over Blaine's side through the duvet. 'Wake me up any time you want, okay?' Not that he'd be sleeping, not with Blaine lying so fragile just inches away. Using one hand, he sent a text to his dad and then tossed the phone to the end of the bed.

'It's my hands.' Blaine broke the silence.

'Do they hurt?' Kurt pressed carefully on Blaine's shoulder and waited as he shifted slowly and painfully onto his back. 'Blaine?' Kurt followed his gaze down to the two still bundles of bandage pillowed on his chest. His chin creased as he pressed his shaking lips together. Finally he pressed his face sideways into the pillow and rolled back onto his side.

Kurt laid silently behind him with a hand on his side and pretended he couldn't hear him crying.

Finally he felt the rise and fall of Blaine's side steady under his hand and the shivers eased. Rolling over and his knees up against the cold, he fixed his eyes back on Blaine's head nestled amongst the pillows. Fuzz had grown over the shaved patches and the angry red scars were partially hidden at this angle where curls flopped over them. Blaine had been horribly embarrassed about the shaved patches and Kurt had ended up carefully rearranging his hair to prove that, really, you could barely see them.

Kurt woke from an uneasy doze with just the vague sense that something was wrong. Blinking blearily, he struggled up onto his elbow and gazed around the room and waited as everything slowly came into focus. Blinking again, he looked down and sleepily stroked his hand along the curve of Blaine's side through the duvet. Nestling back down with just the quiet creak of the bed, Kurt laid in silence and concentrated on the peaceful rise of Blaine's side under his hand. After a moment Blaine shivered. The push up onto his elbow was quicker this time and Kurt was scrambling across the bed and thudding down to his knees at the same time Blaine started to twitch and whimper.

'I'm here,' Kurt repeated continuously as he leaned over Blaine and slipped his arms under the pillow. He lifted the sides and trapped Blaine's head carefully between them as Blaine started to thrash. Biting his lip helplessly, Kurt held his arms steady and kept talking to him, even as his voice cracked and he started to sob. Blaine gasped in terror and babbled desperately. The rug burnt at Kurt's knees as he shifted and curled his toes, holding himself together while every whimper and jolt of Blaine's body brought him closer to the night it happened. He didn't know what to do. Blaine kept jolting, crying, the bed squeaking, and he didn't know what to _do_ and his tears ran hot over his cheeks as he sobbed and a scream built up in his throat.

Blaine's eyes snapped open and he struggled desperately against the sheets and Kurt blindly reached behind him just as Blaine collapsed over the side of the bed and retched into the bowl. Kurt cupped his forehead and whispered soothingly, rubbing his thumb through sweat damp hair. His heart raced in his ears in the sudden stillness. With one final heave, Blaine just hung there, head down and body shaking weakly.

'I'm sorry,' Blaine whispered.

It wasn't until he felt a shaking bandaged hand run through his hair that Kurt realised he hadn't stopped sobbing. He looked up into Blaine's pale face and tried to twitch a smile. 'S'fine,' he whispered. Pushing the bowl under the bed, Kurt slowly pushed himself up onto the bed beside Blaine. He tucked in as close as he could with Blaine's arm around his back.

'We'll get there,' Blaine murmured. 'It'll work out.'

Kurt closed his eyes and waited until exhaustion pulled him into sleep.

Blaine was curled up and sleeping when Kurt woke up, remaining asleep even as Kurt fumbled around his room and wrote him a note. Kurt propped the note on the bedside table in front of him and flicked off the lamp that had remained on all night. He padded quietly down the hall, bag clutched to his chest and pushed tentatively on likely doors until he found the bathroom. The hair products said it was definitely the one Blaine used.

'Blaine?'

Kurt whirled around with his hand pressed over his mouth and heart pounded.

Grace stood at the end of the hallway like something out of a Victorian horror, white nightdress and slippers and some deeply bizarre things trapped in her hair. 'Kurt Hummel?'

'Blaine called me last night,' Kurt said hastily, feeling some explanation of why he was sneaking out of his bedroom was needed and needed fast.

Grace's shoulders slumped slightly and something drooped in her hair. 'I don't know how to look after him,' she confessed. They stared at each other in the silent understanding that both of them were out of their depth. 'Would you like me to put some toast on for you when I make mine?' She offered finally. 'Towels are in the second cupboard.'

There was...something about showering in Blaine's bathroom. Seeing his razor and toothbrush jammed in the mug beside the sink and the half used bottle of shampoo on its side on the shower floor. Knowing this was where Blaine stood and what Blaine saw when he showered. Kurt blushed furiously and tilted his face up into the water as his thoughts wandered. He felt disgusted with himself for thinking that when Blaine was...as he was. But he'd get better. He had to.

School felt pointless and Kurt slumped over his history textbook during class and fell asleep. Much as he longed to, there was no point texting Blaine when it took him so much effort to reply with his hands still partially bandaged. The stitches were still in, Kurt put a note in his phone during maths class to remind him to take Blaine to the doctors on Saturday to get them removed. Neither of them spoke about it but Kurt walked everywhere at Rachel's side between classes. The yell of voices and the bright fluorescent lights of the halls during breaks was too close a reminder to that night, even while the crowd of people around was what calmed him. It was the emptiness that Kurt couldn't take. Going to the bathroom during class, Kurt had broken into a panicked run down the empty hall and huddled outside the classroom door, panting until he could breath steadily enough to push the door open. In the silence he felt like he was back at the McDonalds, that people were going to walk up behind him on silent feet and there would be no one there to hear him screaming.

Kurt slumped down onto the couch when he got home and fell asleep.

It was almost dark through the window when he jolted awake and shoved at the blanket someone had laid over him. Disorientated, he scrabbled for his phone and gazed in bleary panic around the dark lounge room. 'Blaine,' he muttered and swung his legs off the couch.

'Woah,' Burt placed a firm hand on his shoulder and steered him back to the couch. 'Sit.'

Rubbing his hands roughly over his forehead, Kurt sank back into the couch and waited for his heart to slow again. They sat together in silence for a moment before Burt spoke.

'Was Blaine okay last night?'

Kurt scratched his nail over the fabric of the couch. 'The medication makes him feel strange. And he has nightmares,' he added after a pause, stomach clenching at the memory of his panic and the hot press of Blaine's forehead in his hand. He released a shuddering breath and stretched his legs out along the carpet. 'He needs someone there.'

'I know, kid.' His dad was solid and comforting beside him on the couch. 'You've been with him every hour you possibly could, no one could ask for more.'

'He deserves more,' Kurt said fiercely into the deep blue shadows of the room. The sounds of Finn and Carole eating and talking drifted from the kitchen.

'Let his parents take over for a bit, Kurt, you can't do everything,' Burt nudged him gently, 'as hard as you try.'

Kurt didn't trust himself to speak and laid his cheek on his dad's shoulder. 'They left him,' he said eventually and this time his voice did crack in a mix of anger and frustration. 'They just _left_.' And it started pouring out, the hospital, the empty house with Grace, _everything._

'So he's alone in there?' There was a spike of anger in Burt's voice.

'Just Grace.'

'Grab your coat,' Burt pushed up off the couch.

**Also if any of you are reading Business I've done some fairly major structural edits and a few plots bits over there. Mainly because I've been meaning to for ages, a little bit because I had wisdom teeth out and got a bit whacked. Heads up anyway.**


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